This is an utterly silly tale about a young man and girl who claims to be a witch, but it's really just about the sex. Enjoy!
This is a story about the time I seduced a witch. Well, there might be some question about who seduced whom, but the outcome was the same regardless of who gets credit (or blame) for initiating the process.
I met her in a café where she was working behind the counter as a barista. I guessed her to be in her early-thirties, about 5-3 or 5-4. She was quite trim with the cutest ass you've ever seen squeezed tightly into her Levis and nice little round boobs that looked like they wanted to spill out of the dark green tank top she was wearing There was a mass of dark red hair coiled on top of her head. Very fetching indeed.
Since it was mid-afternoon, and the place was pretty much empty, I struck up a conversation, and it wasn't long before we were both flirting shamelessly. Eventually I worked up the courage to ask her when she got off work.
"How about now?" she said.
"Won't you get fired?"
"Not a chance," she responded. "First, my shift ended half an hour ago. I was just hanging around here to flirt with you. I think it's your eyes. It's not the color. It's the way you use them."
"Also I cast a spell on my boss. He isn't going to do anything to me except follow me around like a puppy dog in love. I almost feel bad about it. He's pathetic, but it's one way to keep a job when you really aren't all that interested in working."
"Let's get the hell out of here," I said. "I want to know more about what you see in my eyes, and I want to know about this spell shit. I know a bar around the corner where we can get something stronger than coffee."
"It's a deal," she said as she hustled around the end of the coffee bar. She shrugged off her barista apron, tossing it at a hook as we went out the door. Before we reached the end of the block she had released her hair from its constraints and it fell in a great chaotic dark red mass that reached the middle of her back.
We grabbed a table in the back of the bar and ordered drinks from the bar maid—beer for me, but Rachel wanted a gin and tonic. When the drinks came she took a long pull and then leaned forward on the table, giving me quite a view of her tits.
I leaned back, enjoying the view, and said, "Before we go any further, I'm Samuel. What shall I call you?"
"Sam," she said. "If you keep doing what you are doing with your eyes you can call me almost anything you want and I will pay rapt attention to you. But most people call me Rachel these days."
"What do you mean by 'these days?' Do you change names regularly?"
"No, not more often than every fifty years or so."
"Hmm. So how many names have you had?"
"Lets see," she said as she held up her fingers to count. There, was Agatha, Beatrice, Desiree, Juliana (ooh, she was a bit of a slut), Margot, Susana, Morgana, and a bunch more I can't think of."
I had been counting without using my fingers and I responded, "That makes you at least 350 years old. How's that work?"
"Actually I am more like 1,400 years old. Lets see, I'll be 1,432 next Tuesday. I've forgotten a few names."
"You're very well preserved," I said. "Who is your plastic surgeon?"
"Nobody. These are original equipment," she said as she pushed her tits up with her hands. "Want to see them?"
"Hmm. Maybe later, but first there are a few other things I want to understand about this 1,400 years old shit." As I said that, I was actually thinking about how I would like to suck on her tits. At the same time I noticed her nipples getting hard and pressing against her thin t-shirt.
"Yes, and I also read minds," she said with a wicked smile.
"What?"
"You were saying one thing and thinking something entirely different. You were talking about how old I claimed to be, but you were thinking about how much you wanted to suck on my tits."
"No way," I said.
"Oh yeah," she said. "You're still thinking about my tits and especially my nipples which are making a tent in my t-shirt."
"Shit. She's right," I thought.
"Okay, I guess I'm busted," I said. "You got me on impure thoughts, but how was I supposed to know you could read my mind?"
"Well, I told you I cast a spell on my boss, so you should have known I was a witch, and witches can read minds."
"Somehow I suspect I know less about witches than you think I should," I responded.
"Well, some people are a bit ignorant on the topic. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on your ignorance, but those oh so sexy eyes of yours homed right in on my nipples as they responded to your nasty thoughts."
I was loosing ground in this exchange rapidly. "So let me get this straight," I said. "First, you offered to show me your tits. Second, being a gentleman, I tried to change the topic and ask you about your age." ("How gentlemanly was that?" I wondered). "Third," I continued, "your nipples got hard when you caught me staring at them. From that you conclude that I should know that you were reading my mind and knew that I was thinking about sucking on your tits? Have I got this right?"
"Plus I told you I can cast spells," she responded.
"Do your nipples always get hard when you realize some guy you just met is thinking about sucking on your tits?"
"Well, when he has eyes like yours, yeah pretty much, based on 1,400 plus years of experience. But lets be candid here. Were you or were you not thinking about sucking on my tits?"
"I told you a minute ago. You got me on an impure thoughts charge," I said. "Honestly, I was thinking about how nice it would be to circle my tongue slowly around each boob until I worked my way in to your nipple and then to suck on it while I shoved two fingers up your snatch."
"I knew it!" she exclaimed with a smile.
"Let me buy next round," she said, changing the subject. Without waiting for me to respond she slid out of her chair and walked with a really slinky walk over to the bar. She really had a great ass. Did I mention what a great ass she had? Yeah, I guess I did, but it really was a great ass—not a huge ass, and not one of those really tight asses. Just nice and round and a great wiggle to her walk.
"I guess that is what 1,400 years of experience will do for you," I thought as I watched her wiggle over to the bar. "Oh bullshit, she can't be a day over 35. This whole conversation is ridiculous."
She returned in a moment with a drink in each hand and as soon as she set the drinks down, the bar maid showed up with another round.
"Doubles?" I asked.
"Sure," she said. "Why waste time on ordering."
"Well this girl may be full of shit," I thought, "but she has the right attitude about drinking."
"So you are 1,400 years old, cast spells, drink like a fish, read minds, and have a really cute ass," I said. "Does that about sum you up?"
"First," she said, "It's 1,432, next week, and there are a lot of other things you should know about me.
"Such as?"
"I can read and speak Latin, Greek, Samarian and a dozen modern languages including Japanese, Chinese and Finish. I have a PhD from Harvard in linguistics and another one from Oxford in physics. I have pilot's licenses for multiengine jet aircraft and to bring ships into harbors in New York, Rotterdam, Sydney, Rio, and San Francisco. I used to work in porn flicks. Also I used to fuck Newton, Shakespeare, Lincoln, Kennedy, Abby Hoffman, and a whole bunch of other people you would know about."
"Which Kennedy?" I asked with skepticism in my voice.
"Actually several of them," she giggled, "but I meant Jack. Actually his old man was the best of the lot. God he had a big cock and he could last forever. Jack just didn't have the old man's staying power. Plus he had that bad back problem."
"So tell me about this witch shit?" I asked, ignoring her palpably ridiculous story about fucking most of the Kennedy clan.
"Well, when I was about 15 years old I discovered I could make things happen just by thinking about them. Being a typical horny 15 year old, I quickly focused in on making men want to seduce me. I mean what's the point in bending spoons like that idiot Uri Geller? So I started out by seducing half the men in town, but I got a little carried away with that, and the women folk were threatening to tie me to a stake and burn me. So I left and went to the court of the Baron who controlled my end of Germany. I signed on as a maid, but this time I got smart. I used my powers to seduce the women rather than the men. Once I found myself in bed on every Tuesday afternoon with the Baroness, I could get pretty much anything I wanted."
"How long did that gig last?" I asked.
"Do you want my whole life story?" she asked as she knocked back her third gin and tonic.
"No, I think that is enough for now, but how about showing me a spell," I said.
"Sure, what would you like?"
"Wait. Don't cast it on me," I said. This chick was beginning to freak me out. I mean, I didn't really believe her bullshit, but who wants to take a chance of being turned into a frog.
"Well this is kind of a slow afternoon and there is no one in this bar but the bar maid and barkeep," I thought, "so I guess it will have to be one or both of them".
"You want me to get the bar maid and the guy behind the bar to fuck?" she asked.
"Stop doing that. This mind reading stuff is creepy."
"But that is what you want, isn't it?" she asked.
"Well can you do it?"
"Sure, no problem. Now that you mention it, it might be fun."
She motioned the bar maid over and ordered another round of drinks. Then she crooked her finger and signaled to the bar maid to lean over so she could whisper to her. As the bar maid leaned over, I thought her big tits were going to fall out of her low cut top. The bar maid giggled and walked off to the bar.