Fuck Another Witch And Find Out

Readers, this is Part Three of a series involving an erotic writer seeking creative inspiration, and a passel of witches he encounters in an Appalachian mountain town. I try to summarize details from the previous stories as I go; the first two have been warmly received, so you might enjoy them as well. Trigger warning: This one ends in a cliff-hanger. The next part is well in progress and should follow shortly. Thanks in advance for your comments and feedback! -- P_E

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Lily comes out of the bathroom this morning dressed like she was when she came to my camper last night in the rainstorm. Except now her clothes are dry.

She's wearing the same western-style sleeveless denim shirt, struggling to contain the boobs behind them. Her tight, medium-sized ass is squeezed into the same skin-tight khaki pants.

But that was before she stripped naked and I ate her pussy to a very nice firefly-enhanced orgasm.

And before we had incredible sex this morning, during which she -- being an actual witch -- cast a spell on my cock that made it much more thick and quite a bit longer than it usually is.

That fuck ended with the points of light -- the fireflies -- erupting again from Lily's skin. She collected them and shared them with me in a magical sequence that I'm still struggling to understand.

Now, it's clear Lily is fixing to leave and go to work at her little bar in town. She moves toward the front door of my camper and collects her rain slicker from the hook beside the door. She drapes the slicker over her arm.

I've located and stepped into my underwear and shorts from last night. I don't have a shirt on.

Lily stands at the doorway. She gives me a sweet, gentle smile as I approach, and then she kisses me softly.

Her left hand is behind my neck, her right hand is lightly fingering the spot on my bare chest where I saw the glow on my skin just a few minutes ago. The place where the fireflies went.

And I feel... something -- a tingle or a yearning, maybe -- underneath her fingers.

"Bye, Clay," Lily whispers as she opens the camper door and descends the three steps to the ground.

She looks back at me.

"Thank you." And she closes the door.

The clock on the microwave says it's a little after nine in the morning.

The emptiness inside this little camper is immediate. It's immutable.

I can still smell Lily. I can still feel Lily... hugging me... kissing me... fucking me.

The spot in my chest twitches a little.

Ahem... well... I came here to get some writing done. To break through this writer's block.

Quite a bit has happened already. And I need to get some things down on paper (digital paper, anyway) before they run off into the ether... like they do.

I strip down and wash and dry my face and dampen a towel to wipe myself down. Pits, crotch, other places. I find some fresh clothes and get into them.

I pull a juice bottle out of the fridge and settle into the dinette. Computer's open, I log into the camp ground's wireless signal... ready to write. Because, I'm a writer... I write shit.

But where the hell do I start?

Title Number One: I Went To A Dive Bar and Met A Gorgeous Bar Maid, Who I Eventually Had Sex With.

Title Number Two: I Was Captured by a Witch In A Thunderstorm and Escaped by Pretending to Write a Story Where She Was Fucking a Man She Wasn't Married To.

Title Number Three: I Escaped the Witch who Kidnapped Me, and Then Had Sex with the Niece of that Witch.

Title Number Four: I Had More, and Incredible, Sex with the Niece of a Witch... Who Turns Out Also to Be a Witch.

Title Number Five: Oh, and That Second Witch Made My Cock Bigger.

Yeah...this isn't working.

And every time -- and I mean EVERY time -- my fingers type out characters that remind me of Lily, the little spot in my chest twitches... thumps... maybe even glows.

What the fuck is THAT about??

I'm reminded of something Lily said to me when I first met her... when I offered to pay for the beer that she'd poured for me.

"First one's free," Lily had smiled at me. Then, with a wink: "Just promise you'll want more."

And, goddammit, I *do* want more. Maybe lots more.

She left a little over an hour ago. And I simply *have* to see Lily again.

Fuck.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

Fuck... this. Fuck coming up to the mountains for isolation. For creativity.

Fuck my fucking writing.

I grab my keys, close and lock the RV, and roar the engine of my truck to life.

And I head straight for The Firefly

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I park my truck across the street from the little bar.

It's ten-forty AM on a Saturday, and there's not a lot of traffic on this end of town. I'm able to walk across the three lanes and not dodge a car. Hell, not even SEE a car.

The "OPEN" sign of Lily's Firefly is not illuminated but I see her behind the bar, bent over some books or papers or something.

My chest spot thumps a little.

I rap sharply on the door of the bar. Lily is startled at the noise, then gives a funny little smile when she sees that it's me.

Lily comes to the door but doesn't open it.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she calls out artificially loudly through the closed door. "We're not open for another (she glances at her watch) twenty minutes.

"I can let you in, but NO ALCOHOL for... *twenty minutes!!!*"

I slowly nod my acceptance.

Lily laughs at her own little show, unlocks and opens the door, and gives me a quick hug before closing and locking the door to the bar.

"Didn't I just see you a couple of hours ago?" she coos as she heads back to the papers on the bar.

Lily is still wearing her clothes from yesterday -- when we first met. She notices that I notice.

"The storm brought a big branch down over the road to my house," Lily explains.

"After I left your camper, I couldn't get home to change."

"I think you look... magical," I reply.

Lily knows a bullshit line when she hears one.

She laughs loudly as she spins and heads back to whatever she's working on at the bar.

"I came in early to handle paperwork and send out orders to suppliers," Lily continues.

"Janice is opening today. She'll be here soon."

Sure enough, two soft taps on the front window signals an arrival.

"That back corner booth?" Lily points to it... "meet me there. There's an introduction I want to make.

"I'll bring you a beer."

Lily unlocks the door for Janice.

There's a quick, quiet conversation. Janice takes Lily's place huddled over the papers.

I head to the booth Lily directs me to.

The booths in the Firefly are wooden and very high-backed. It's not apparent that anyone is sitting in the booth until I literally come to the open side of it.

And I'm greeted with quite the vision. I literally stop in my tracks.

There is a fucking drop-dead gorgeous black woman sitting on the right side of the booth.

Her back was to me as I approached. She's browsing through something on her phone.

She looks up as I stand there, dumbfounded, then she flashes me a brilliant smile.

"Hello," the woman coos as she sets her phone face down on the table.

"You must be Clay Spencer."

And now I'm even more dumbfounded that this fucking drop-dead gorgeous stranger knows my name. My response gives the whole game away.

"Uhhhhhhh...." I stammer with a sheepish smile, ".... that's me."

Lily appears at my right and saves the day.

"Oh!" Lily exclaims, "you two have met already!"

Lily is holding a tray with three glasses of beer and three bottles of water. I step back a half step to give Lily space to set the tray on the table. At the same time the gorgeous stranger is standing up to meet me.

"I'm Deidre," the woman says as she steps around Lily and extends her hand. "Call me Dee-Dee."

I take her hand to shake it. It's warm. And soft. And she grips my hand with uncharacteristic firmness... power even.

"Dee-Dee," I reply. "You're Lily's... uh... sister, right? And you run the brewery. Nice to meet you."

Lily busies herself setting the drinks on the table. Two beers and two waters on the side Dee-Dee was sitting at, one beer and one water on the opposite side.

"I'm her half-sister," Deidre corrects with a smile. "We have the same momma. Different daddies."

"Now, Dee-Dee," Lily scolds with a grin, "you don't have to tell everything you know."

Readers, how do I describe the beauty of this woman, Deidre?

Her face is a perfect oval shape. Her almond-shaped eyes rest under a slightly-high brow and on each side of a soft, thin nose.

Her full brown lips shield beautiful white teeth. Her chin gives way to a thin, supple neck.

Her skin is a rich, soft brown color and it almost glistens in the dim morning light of the bar.

And the eyes... my god, those eyes! Like Lily's, Diedre's eyes are heterochromatic. The pupils are two different colors -- an outer brown ring and an inner hazel ring. And they glisten and sparkle and dance as they look into mine.

Diedre's body is the perfect combination of muscular power and feminine grace.

Her upper arms prove that the girl knows how to heft a keg of beer around the brewery.

Her thin and taut stomach leads to slightly wide hips, and probably a gorgeous ass, like her sister's.

I have two beautiful woman in front of me this morning; one I've already fucked and another that I'm wondering if I'll have a chance to.

The table-setting task complete, Lily turns to stand between us. She turns her head to the right to face me.

"Clay," Lilly begins, "this is Deidre." Then she turns her head to the left.

"Dee-Dee, this is Clay.

"I'm Lily, and this little place is my bar. Now sit down, both-a y'all, and drink your beer."

It's the situation-breaker we all needed.

I move to sit on the side with the solo beer and water, assuming that's how Lily has organized things. Lily moves to the inside corner of the other side and Diedre takes the aisle seat.

"So, Dee-Dee," I begin as we get settled. "I've had your IPA. It's really good."

"Thank you," Deidre replies warmly with a smile, taking a sip of a beer that looks to be a porter or a stout.

Lily interjects, "And you've got some more of it, right there."

Lily's beer is in a smaller, eight-ounce round glass, probably because of the alcohol content. The beer is nearly black with a dark brown ring of foam around the edge.

"I like my beer like I like my coffee... and my half-sister," Lily teases as she takes her first sip.

I turn to Deidre. "So," I begin, "you already know my first name... and my last name?"

Deidre sets her beer down and raises her eyes to look into mine.

"Mister Spencer," Deidre says formally, but with a smile, "half of this little town already knows your name."

Lily snorts a reply, "And the other half will know it by suppertime!"

The two women laugh.

Deidre notices my furrowed brow first.

"Clay," Diedre begins with a smile. "Lily and I talk all the time. I knew about you right after you left to dodge the thunderstorm.

"But Aunt Harriett is a blabbermouth. And Pete in the Sherriff's office can't keep a secret to save his life."

Deidre gives a side-eye to Lily next to her.

"And," she continues, "... Little Miss Lily wasn't in *her* bed last night."

Lily blushes a little and looks down into her beer.

"There are many nights when Little Miss Dee-Dee isn't in her bed, either," Lily scolds quietly.

"For totally different reasons," Deidre replies quietly as she sips her beer.

I feel like I began this tense discussion. So I try to change the subject.

"Dee-Dee," I begin, "Lily told me... this morning, I guess... that all the women in her family are witches.

"That makes you a witch, too?"

Lily nods as Deidre confirms the statement:

"It does," she replies. "Although Lily and I practice in different areas."

I'm intrigued, and I want to know more.

"So tell me more about witches," I say pointedly. "And about witchcraft."

Neither woman is phased at all by my directness.

Lily and Deidre look at each other, and somehow determine who should go first.

"So... first of all," Lily begins, "here are a few things to know about witches.

"Very few of us have the ability to practice a wide range of magic," Lily declares.

"Some do, but I only know of one other witch who practices in more than one discipline."

Lily does a fake-pretend wink-wink move by holding up one hand and using it as a shield to point at Dee-Dee.

Deidre rolls her eyes and sips her beer.

"Most of us specialize in one area and focus our skills there," Lily continues, "... and just there."

I put it in different terms.

"Like someone from the outside world would choose to be a doctor," I confirm, "and then they don't also call themself a lawyer."

"Exactly," Lily answers.

"And then," she continues, "most witches find their powers revolve around a certain set of skills or talents.

"Things we're just born with. We don't really choose one skill over another.

"Just like some people have brown eyes, and some people have blue eyes," I contribute.

"Right again," Lily interjects.

"It's just kind of what you get handed when you're born into witchcraft, and you decide to work with that... or you don't."

This is intriguing.

"So," I begin, "... you realize at some point that you're a witch...

"... but then you can also decide at some point to NOT be... a witch?"

Deidre takes over.

"Sure," she replies, matter-of-factly.

"The potential is there. But the witch has to decide whether she's going to develop it.

"The witch either believes in the magic that's within her, or she doesn't."

"What are some examples?" I ask

"Well, for instance," Deidre continues, "some witches powers revolve around controlling people's thoughts.

And, since Lily has recent familiarity of a good example, she interjects:

"Hattie practiced her craft in that way," Lily declares. "And she was really good at it."

Deidre nods agreement as she sips more of her beer.

Readers, Hattie was the witch that trapped me in her cabin behind the KOA. She wouldn't set me free until I told her a racy story about her fucking her illicit lover.

Now I'm *really* intrigued.

"You mean," I ask, incredulously., "Hattie just made me *think* I couldn't move my arms or my legs?"

"She basically hypnotized you," Lily says, with a little hint of droll.

Deidre answers my next objection before I raise it:

"It doesn't always involve a swinging watch Clay," Diedre says softly, with a smile. She sips her beer.

Then she continues:

"Other witches focus on changing the visual spectrum around their subject," Diedre explains.

"Witches with that skill can make someone think they see something that isn't there. Or they can prevent someone from seeing things that are there.

"Others focus on more dimensional elements, like time and space.

"Still others focus on moving things around from place to place. Or changing something's shape... a more kinetic focus.

That makes sense to me. Lily cast a spell on my cock this morning that took it from normal and made it downright massive.

"So, you must focus on kinetics?" I ask Lily.

"My powers have always been of a psychokinetic variety," Lily replies matter-of-factly, as she swallows a sip of her beer.

Then she smiles at a memory:

"I was a very little girl... like, four... and my momma came to my room one afternoon to find me playing checkers... by myself.

"The checkers were on my play table. I was sitting on the bed, moving them around the checkerboard with my mind."

I, too, smile at the imagery. "I bet she was very proud of you," I offer.

"She was," Lily replies softly. "Momma was a kinetic witch, too. "

"She was very happy with me that day."

Lily takes a sip of her beer.

All the time Lily tells her story, Deidre is watching me closely. Then she says:

"Clay, Lily tells me she performed some kinetic magic on you a little earlier this morning."

Deidre's eyes are twinkling into mine.

I'm not exactly sure how to respond. I end up with, "Yeah... I guess she did."

"Did I ever..." Lily mutters into her glass.

We all giggle a little. It's a bit early in the day for all these heavy beers.

Deidre lifts her eyes into mine.

"I sure could use some o' that," she whispers lustily.

It's a bombshell of a thing to say. And I'm surprised at how Lily reacts.

"Really??" Lily gasps with excitement. It's almost like she's eager to show her sister her handiwork.

"Absolutely," Deidre replies. She takes another draw from her glass.

"But there are some other incantations that should happen first." She looks a little scoldingly at Lily.

"Have you forgotten what day it is?"

Lily is puzzled briefly, and then responds.

"Oh! Oh, shit... of course!

"With the storm and then Hattie... and then... Clay..." and Lily's voice drops off. She sips from her beer.

Deidre responds by raising up to peer over the booth to see if anyone is approaching. Seeing no one, she pivots back to her seat at the aisle.

Deidre takes a deep breath and holds it, then closes her eyes. She raises her hands over her head and, as she exhales, she lowers her hands slowly in an arc, down to her hips, and under the table to the floor.

Trailing just behind the motion of Deidre's hands, I can see a rippling of the air, similar to what I saw in Hattie's cabin as she cast her spell on me.

Deidre's motion is complete. She takes another breath and opens her eyes into mine. She smiles softly and takes a sip of her beer.

I find myself sitting with these two beautiful witches inside a dome of some sort, encompassing the booth and the table. The dome is transparent; I can see through it, but the image on the other side is rippling slightly, like it's just below the surface of a pool of clear water. There's something of a soft, ringing hiss surrounding us.

"Clay, Lily and I have something of a... symbiotic... relationship," Deidre says to me, declaratively.

"Lily shares some of her magic with me, and I share some of my magic with her. We've done it for years.

"And we've discovered if the sharing happens on the same day each month... well, it just works best that way."

Lily picks up the narrative. "You might be the only person -- outside of us," Lily says with a tinge of excitement in her voice, "to see this.

"We keep it pretty much to ourselves."

"That's the reason for the cloak-spell over the table," Deidre explains. "We can see out, but nobody can see in.

"Shall we begin?" Deidre asks the question of me, like I have anything to do with it. I guess it could be my chance to leave. Instead, I nod a nervous affirmative.

I find the voice to murmur, "Sure."

Deidre pivots in her seat to face Lily. Lily pivots in her seat to face Deidre.

The two women stare into each other's eyes. Then they raise their hands about breast high. Simultaneously, they take in a deep inhale, and they close their eyes.

Their hands move to meet at the center, and their fingers intertwine. And then each witch leans forward.

The space between them compresses, until Lily's and Deidre's lips meet in a bewitching, non-sisterly kiss.

I'm sure my mouth drops open, to match my eyes.

The kiss doesn't break. Instead, it ramps up until it becomes pretty fucking passionate.

Lily's and Deidre's hands separate. Deidre puts her hands on each side of Lily's head as she grinds her mouth into Lily's.

Lily's hands begin to run all over Deidre's body... her ass, her legs, her arms, her breasts.

Both women are moaning softly into the other. The ringing hiss seems to get a little louder.

It's an intensely passionate kiss, and I feel a stir in my crotch in response.

Suddenly, I hear a voice from my right.

"Hey, Lill... I finished the sched..."

I turn to the voice and see Janice -- the barmaid -- coming around the corner of the booth. She stops suddenly because she doesn't see anyone sitting there.