Epilogue

Casting My Spell

Wearing only a thong with a towel slung over my shoulders, I switched some hours with another nursing assistant to cover the late-night shift at the Fertility clinic. My bare boobs bounced peering out from under the towel as I shifted my weight. The evening had been slow, only an occasional donor to be freed from the cock blocker, showered towelled and led to a hitching post. Most of the evening was spent sitting around in the locker awaiting the next donor. Sitting on a wooden bench waiting for late night sperm donors can be hard on a butt covered with nothing more than a thong.

How did I end up here with unprotected butt cheeks perched on a hardened bench? It's part of being a Gemini, the twin: a contradiction caught in a split personality, adventurous, yet methodical and plodding, at the same time.

As methodical as I am, damn, why didn't I remember to bring out a fluffy bath towel to plop my butt on? I looked up at the clock 9:20PM. 10 minutes? I mused. Hopefully Jerry will come on time.

Hmm, as part of the split personality, I love double entends.

Re - shifting my weight, I was cheered that my husband Jerry would arrive on time. Tonight, I could feel the tingle of magic. Jerry was under a spell but not one I had cast.

Magic was in the air the day I met Jerry. I had been dressed pretty much the same way when I met Jerry except that I was seated in a ratty, but comfy overstuffed armchair in my second-floor rooms in a house on a tree lined street. I had left the door to the adjoining rooms open as I usually did to catch the breeze billowing in on this sticky humid late summer day. This sultry afternoon, I had forgotten that the landlady had moved another tenant into the rooms behind mine.

I heard movement in my apartment. Turning to the noise, I found Jerry, naked but for a towel around his waist. "Your door was open I just came in to see..." His voice trailed off. His tongue was tied and his eyes were fixed on my nipples.

Earlier today at work in the clinic, I had to retrieve the sperminator, a purported medical appliance that combined the capabilities of a vibrating dildo with a syringe designed to bring on an orgasm to assist in insemination. The patient I would plunge the sperminator into had been selected over me as a Surrogate for a wealthy patron. With me in the running for the lucrative Surrogacy, Jerry's natural sperminator was locked down in a cock blocker. "Can't have the roosters playing with my chick-a-dees, can we?" Dr Velour, the clinic director, cackled when she tested the chastity shield by rapping it with her fist. "Hollow sound are you sure he's still strung."

I decided to invite Jerry over to the clinic to deliver the good or bad news, depending on perspective. A contradiction that's where a Gemini thrives! The seed money Jerry hoped for his consulting company would not be forthcoming. On the other hand, I hoped I had enough magic left that Jerry'd join me celebrating freedom tonight, notwithstanding the disappointment. Would my magic turn the scene into a romantic rendez -- vous?

Jerry hid his romantic side behind his macho and imposing physical strength. For all the toughness he projected, Jerry could produce sweet love poetry, "Time for believing // chests heaving // figures cleaving // dream weaving." That was part of a poem he composed spontaneously when we met.

"9:30PM, report into the clinic. Yes, I have news. No, I'll tell you when you come. The cock blocker comes off for a quick shower and a workout. Good, it's a date then!" I exclaimed as I hung up the phone in the director's subterranean level office in the Western Avenue Fertility Clinic. I paused for a second to chuckle at myself. Had I just made a date with my husband? We had never gone out on a formal date.

Stopping to look out past the pool complex to admire the clinic director's latest project an underground sauna and solarium, I mused events had made it little likely the director would ever enjoy the magnificent new facility. No matter, I had prepared everything in the Solarium for its intended use tonight. Geminis can be spontaneous and systematic at the same time.

Oops, I almost forgot. I came down here to retrieve and load the sperminator with man juice. I had a bitch in heat upstairs waiting to be inseminated. The wealthy patron's choice of someone else made the encumbrance Jerry carried unnecessary.

As I took the loaded sperminator back to the treatment room to inseminate the patient, I reflected that if the conditions the wealthy patron wanted to extract hadn't been so great, my private celebration with Jerry might have taken a different form.

While returning with the loaded Sperminator to my patient, I paused looking into the solarium to ponder. Everything was in place in there. A pad and the visor were waiting for us. As a typical Gemini, I had meticulously prepared for this evening.

Yet at the moment duties called. I needed to attend to a patient. While I could be a fierce competitor for the Surrogacy, I vowed passionately to bring my patient to orgasm in order to impregnate my rival.

The clock moved slowly. "9:28 PM," the clock read. How I hoped Jerry would be on time. I stood to rub my butt blistering from sitting too long.

Alerted to Jerry's presence by a loud ah-hem. Swirling around to face Jerry, I discarded the towel. Eyes rivetted on my dangling boobs, Jerry in a halting voice questioned, "Do you think -- I mean, should we -- are you calling a different nursing assistant?"

Did I detect anticipation in Jerry's voice? Was he drooling over the prospect of a windfall or the possibility of renewing that lively round of grappling which marked the beginning of our relationship?

"At the moment," I replied in distant tone, "I'm the `it' girl. At your service, Mr Warbler, I'm your cock inspector, shower siren and towel valet. Only if I wave the scepter," I shook the electronic notebook, "you'd wag your wiener. So, I'm it," I took a deep breath.

Poor Jerry Warbler, I thought to myself. My magic kept his brawn, brain and nuts working together. How did he put it, "Instinct urging // storm surging // shadows merging // dream converging." Without those nuts ...

I shook my head. I bellowed the command, "You know the ritual observance," I looked down at my electronic chart as if I were checking his name, "eh -- Mr Warbler, everything off, down to bare dermis so I can relieve your cock from its harness." Hmm, I amazed myself by having lifted a little of Jerry's lyrical lilt. Stunned for a second by the harsh tone, Jerry required further prodding to undress. "What's your excuse?" I asked, "Is there anything to fear?"

I hid a smile as Jerry started to undress. A part of Jerry's poem addressed the fear. "In this setting // slyly treading // bolt threading // port spreading // for a happy ending."

Left with the triangular chastity shield covering his male genitalia, Jerry protested, "Aren't you worried that you won't be sufficiently eh--protected?"

Jerry's muscles involuntarily reflexed when I felt the ridges of the Marine Corps tattoo emblazoned in a muscular shoulder. I giggled a reply, "I have my very own Marine to protect my honor." I could be tough but tender at the same time, I marveled as I allowed my nipples to graze Jerry's arm. "Hopefully, we'll see soft tissue spring forth from your tough hide when I push the button on my electronic notepad."

It was pretty much the same in my room when I first met Jerry. Jerry was frozen in place as I examined his Marine Corps tattoo. Feeling Jerry's biceps reflex when I licked the pad of my index finger and ran it along the outline of Jerry's marine corps tattoo, I detected the storm stirring.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Jerry's eyes followed my nimble finger as it circled the Marine Corp's emblem, the globe, as he spoke reassuringly, "I only wanted to borrow some soap.."

"Scared? I have a marine for protection. You should have told me this morning," I continued feel the iron muscles of Jerry's arms. "I work part time in a grocery. I could have gotten some--eh soap."

I was Gemini, the twin who looked in both directions at the same time. My mood could swing from soft and sweet to distant and impersonal. Facing Jerry in the clinic's locker, after the cock blocker was removed, I growled, "Hun, you know the direction. Assume the position for genital inspection," I commanded. "Hands clasped behind your head, feet apart. Eyes left. Let's see an erection."

Hesitating, Jerry questioned, "Do you think -- I mean, should we -- are you authorized to?" The anticipation filed his voice, "You have news?"

"First rule of the facility!" I exclaimed. "To enter," I barked an order as I donned surgical gloves deliberately unnerving Jerry when the snap rang off the tiled walls, "Like everybody else, you must submit to genital examination. Quickly attend," I urged him, "Hands behind your head, feet spread."

Roughly forcing Jerry's head to look away, I fondled his nuts rolling them around in my fingers. "Any recent sexual activity?" When no response was forth coming, I gently cupped his testicles to prompt a reply, I questioned, "Your cock is blocked, but fellatio, cunnilingus, anal penetration are possible." Turning aside Jerry's protest, I noted, "these are prescribed questions."

Jerry's response reached into the alto range. Adding "You should know," to his denial drew a squeeze.

"Nocturnal emissions?" I asked.

Jerry smirked, "No."

As I felt along Jerry's hairless pubes, I reminded him that to schedule an appointment for depilation in a month or two. I held the penis in my hand and noted that he was circumcised. Looking down at my notebook, I asked, "age at circumcision?"

"Y'know that it's ritually performed often on newborn males," Jerry replied, "I never got asked these questions here before."

"I'm just completing information required for your chart," I remarked impersonally as I announced the entry, "Age uncertain."

Feeling along the underside of the shaft from the head of the penis to its root, I feigned marveling, "The poker glows but the coals," I jiggled his nuts curled up against the body, "retreat into the cauldron."

Reaching under the scrotum, I tickled his perineum, the ridge of skin which leads to the asshole. When Jerry started to sway and to murmur for more I abruptly, I broke off contact and ordered Jerry into the showers. He turned to me with a look of expectation, "The news?" Jerry folded his hands as if in prayer as he pled for reassurance.

"Good, I expect, now the shower," I whacked his rear as he passed me.

When necessary, the Gemini, the irascible twin, can be brutally cold -- blooded in dealing with an intimate and unspeakably forward in dealing with a person newly introduced.

The trip to the shower when I first met my mate in my apartment also began with a whack. Fingering Jerry's Marine Corp tattoo, I murmured my admiration for his upper body physique. Jerry interrupted my doting by reminding me that he'd like to take a shower and needed to borrow soap. "You can eh -- continue your examination in the shower..."

"I'll take that as an invitation," I exclaimed as I whipped his towel off. "I see," taking note of his building erection, I declared to Jerry, face aghast, "you like what you see."

"You as well?" Jerry replied in a voice which quivered with shock.

Starting to walk away with a harrumph to the shower swinging my hips with great exaggeration, I observed an unvoiced word clinging to his open mouth, `What.' Concealing my glee at Jerry's discomfort, I tossed Jerry's towel toward the bath. "You won't need this towel just yet." To Jerry's open mouthed, unspoked protest, I replied, "I have one bar of soap left. Are you joining me?" I dragged Jerry to my shower pulling him along by his penis. I marveled at its burgeoning length and growing rigidity.

A Gemini moves in two directions at once. Genteel and tart, sweet and smart at the same time, like the natural actress, she can switch between roles in an instant. Positioning Jerry under a spigot in the male donor's communal shower at the clinic, I began soaping his back. "Skin silky smooth as a newborn." I complimented him on the depilation, removal of body hair, which accompanies installation of the cock blocker at the clinic.

"Now that you bring that up.." Jerry started to inquire about the wealthy doctor's choice of Surrogate.

"We're on camera," I, crushing my breasts into the rock-solid muscles of his back, tiptoed to softly whisper in his ear. Sharply changing my tone, "Arms out," I barked. My command rang off the tiled walls.

A Gemini can ponder for hours over an insignificant matter and then make a snap life changing judgement. I had made my decision before I started marching Jerry to my shower. Jerry was mine.

"Do you," Jerry, stretching the elastic band of my thong, asked when he reached the smoked glass shower doors, "need these in there?"

Swaying as I massaged his erect penis, I wondered aloud, "You seem to like me, but I don't know. I come at a high price."

"Are you a ugh--a whore?" Jerry stumbled.

"No, I can fuck like a whore promised a bonus, but as faithful as true love," I replied stretching his poker, "I am a witch who has cast her spell. My price is higher than the classiest call girl. "By design, these," my fingers cupped his nut sack, "become mine. You keep or lose the twain as I ordain." I deliberately used inflated language. Jerry's mouth opened agape as I released his genitalia raised my arms and twisted my body, seductively daring him in a whisper, "Seal the witch's pact, strip my thong off with a yank."

I could smell his scent rising. Had I come on too strong? Would Jerry run away?

A Gemini can be a bitch and an angel, at the same time. Certainly, at the clinic Jerry was spell -- bound by the prospect of money. Would he ever realize that the bullying and rough handling in the male donor's shower was for his own good. "Spread your legs. Bend over. Crack me a smile. Will you luv?"

I started to drip oily soap along the base of his spine watching it slowly drip into his crack between his hairless butt cheeks, reddened with anxious anticipation. "Somehow, Sugar, sleek and smooth legs do not fit the male body." I quipped as I whacked his butt.

In my shower, Jerry's face reddened not with shame but with a surge of testosterone. He reached for my elastic band of my thong, but only snapped it. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I swayed my hips as I joked, "are you trying to play romantic tune on my waist band?"

I finally goaded him past the point of no return. With a sweep of his powerful hands my thong was gone. I jumped up to wrap my legs around his waist. He carried me into the shower.

In the donor's shower at fertility clinic, I had thought of dousing Jerry with cold water, but that might break whatever power my spell still held. I had to be more clever. I want to harness the current and convert it to my own purposes. Instead, watching oily soap drip into his crack, I advised him that the ointment may feel cold at first but will warm as I work it in. As I wormed my nimble fingers past Jerry's sphincter muscles, I noted dryly, "a woman's long narrow fingers make female doctors better able to conduct proctological exams."

Aroused Jerry turned to me fully erect. Feeling his pulsating penis, I passed the impassive comment, "Mr Warbler, as you see a rectal exam has certain noticeable side effects." Jerry was breathing hard. His face was flush. Would he push me to the ground, rip my thong off, bind my hands, and take me from behind--his favorite position? We looked at each other panting. Would this be our moment?

My magic was there but not strong enough to overpower the lure of financial reward. Turning away, Jerry told me to towel him down. "I need to get to the hitching post to leave my deposit.

In the shower in my apartment when I first met Jerry, I, finding myself back on my feet, released the spigot. Turning to the spray, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue to moisten my lips. Jerry's feet nudged mine further apart. With one muscular arm to force me bent over at the waist, Jerry used his other hand to guide his penis to an insertion. I gasped as his projectile glided deep inside. Jerry's poem went, "Arms grappling// legs straddling // pike portending // connection pending."

With hands gripping my hips, Jerry suddenly expanded by at least an inch. Reaching his maximum extent, Jerry exploded inside me. My vaginal muscles twitched trying to keep Jerry burrowed deep inside. It was a moment I wanted to last forever. Nonetheless, Jerry's crashing rocket simply sputtered and slipped out of my socket.

Leaving me face down on the floor of the shower, Jerry retrieved a towel. Covering my shoulders, Jerry whispered, "First time?"

"With a--ugh--a--ugh--real man," came my carefully thought out response. Reflecting on that comment years later in the fertility clinic, I, slinging a bath towel over my shoulder, readied to towel down Jerry. I chuckled to myself, real man, a double -- entend is given as a compliment. A Gemini, the twin, is pulled in two directions at the same time, in sexual preferences to women as well as men. Right after inviting Jerry down to the clinic, I found myself naked rubbing vaginal lips with a patient bringing her to orgasm for injection of seminal fluid.

Dropping to my kneeling before Jerry, I remarked offhand about the state of erection, "Not fully erect. The projectile hasn't yet jutted out horizontal. A little rub -- a -- dub -- dub will change that," I giggled as I readied to towel dry Jerry's body from the toes up. "The clinic assumes that showering," I assumed a conversational tone, "will deflate the swelling initiated by removal of the cock blocker and the genital examination. The towel girl's hands -- on drying of the donor's body will reignite the natural process of arousal."

Working my way up to his inner thighs, I motioned for Jerry to spread his legs to allow me to blot dry his groin. "Actually, it resulted in a competition between the shower sirens in black thongs against the towel valets in white two pieces for tip money." I lifted Jerry's penis to dab his scrotum.

As the reach of my hands ran across his muscular chest, Jerry threw his head back and closed his eyes. My slow and methodical rub down palpated the armor plating of Jerry's pectoral muscles. Holding his head high and scrunching his eyes shut, Jerry demonstrated an iron discipline over his physical response to my impersonalized but intense pampering.

In our home life prior to my consideration for Surrogacy, Jerry was never shy and rarely restrained. He usually wrestled me to the ground, secured my hands with my bra, stuffed my panties in my mouth and took me doggy style. How much longer could such a person maintain the discipline? How much more could any man take much less a "real man" like Jerry?

Could I endure much more? To ease tension, I declared, "Though first timers can shoot their wad during the intake, the financial reward of a controlled emission at a hitching post seems to be the right magic which inspires restraint."

As I lay huddled curled up on the floor of my shower, a towel partly covering my back, my bare butt jutting out, Jerry leaned over me. "Are you OK? I tried to hide my satisfaction. He was guilty -- Just about now, I figured, he'd fear I cry rape.

Reaching out to Jerry with an extended hand, I, hiding my face from him, pleaded, "Help me to my feet; dry me; get me to bed. Will you?"

Grunting with exaggeration, "up," Jerry yanked me to my feet. Roughly running a bath towel through my hair, Jerry lashed the towel around his fists before rubbed my neck. When Jerry startled pummeling my breasts with his terry -- cloth covered fist, I wondered if he intended to use the wet towel as a whip to flog my ass.