Paul frowned as he peered past a drop of rain on the windshield. The single-story of beige brick and short, tidy asphalt driveway wasn't what he'd expected. The house, with its sweep of well-kept lawn, looked like any other suburban home. It sat on a sparsely populated, dead-end street in a far corner of Mansion Grove. Beyond the house, the limbs of an autumn-stripped forest rose up to the gray evening sky.
He pulled into the driveway and paused before turning the engine off. As he'd driven into the small residential community, both disbelief and irritation had wrestled with Paul's feelings for Melissa. He'd met her only three months before and for possibly the first time in his life, Paul thought he'd found a woman who incited his heart more than his libido.
Or at least somehow managed to put his libido in a reasonable proportion. Thirty-two-year-old Paul had, since age nineteen, possessed a powerful sex-drive. One that had, for the last thirteen years, demanded he satisfy himself within the eager flesh of countless women. His romantic longings had not been absent as much as muted.
Melissa, though, had changed the balance between heart and carnality. At least for a while. Over the last month his libido had grown gluttonous. No matter how often he and Melissa had sex, his lust remained unslaked. Her enthusiasm for the act had withered, along with her willingness to indulge inventive attempts at satisfying his blind, ceaseless lust.
Three nights ago, her patience broke and she'd left the apartment. Paul had, in a vague way, always known that he had a problem. With Melissa's exit, Paul had reluctantly agreed maybe he did need help of some sort. Even now, though, that agreement hovered in the periphery of his mind, shunned by a resentment Melissa had mandated Paul seek help from her mentor, Nadine.
He knew little about the woman other than she was, of all things, a witch. Melissa had never used the word, but the few things she'd said about the Gathering made it clear Nadine was more than den mother to a group of nature enthusiasts. He sighed and pulled the keys from the ignition. He snickered at the thought he was about to seek therapy from a witch. A witch, he thought, and climbed from the car.
The woman who opened the door was, like the house itself, not what Paul had expected. Nadine was neither an old, wizened crone nor a dramatic temptress with a penchant for black. She was, at a guess, somewhere either side of forty and stood about even with his nose. Dark, sober eyes gazed up at him.
The simple white gown falling from her throat to her feet made her dark skin and straight, waist-length black hair glow. Though her gown revealed little of her figure, he could tell easily enough she was slender. Paul caught his breath as he glanced at the jut of her high, modest breasts.
"Paul? It's nice to meet you. Come in, please." She said, and stepped back.
Her voice carried authority, as did the sculpted planes of her face. With only the few words she'd spoken, Paul could appreciate how others might trust and follow her.
"Thanks." He said and stepped into the house.
His eyes fixed on her rump as she led him into a large, open living room. A lamp sitting in a corner complimented dancing light from a fireplace. The room was, again, not what he'd expected. The few pieces of furniture were cream-white or a rich, dark brown. No goat's head or skulls grinned at him and he didn't see anything that suggested an interest in the occult.
"Please." Nadine said and gestured to a pale couch.
Paul sat. Nadine stood near the center of the room as if she was a minister patiently awaiting congregates to settle themselves. She smiled politely. Paul looked at her and started when he saw how transparent her gown was.
The contours of her lithe body were just more than hinted at. He bit his lip and took a deep breath. He crossed one leg over the other and glanced at the mantle behind her, telling himself he hadn't just seen compelling evidence she wore nothing but skin under her gown.
"I want to thank you for coming here tonight, Paul. It means a great deal to Melissa, and to me as well. I'm quite fond of her." Nadine said.
"Me too." Paul said.
He licked his lips and fidgeted. Now that he was sitting in Nadine's house, embarrassment crept into every corner of his mind. He knew Melissa wanted this meeting and had probably told Nadine a great deal. Still, he wasn't sure he could discuss something as intimate as his sex-life with a total stranger. She's not a stranger to Melissa, he reminded himself.
"I know this must be difficult for you, but from what Melissa has told me, I'm quite certain I can help. Otherwise I would have counseled her on some other form of action." Nadine said.
Paul squirmed and looked toward the front door. The thought of leaving seemed pointless when he realized Nadine already knew about his sex-life. Might as well ride this out, he thought. Maybe Melissa would come back to the apartment tonight, now that he'd honored her request. The ember of lust the thought spawned cooled. She probably wouldn't unless Nadine said it was okay. The thought brought a pang of resentment.
"Well, like you said, we're both fond of her." He said.
"Yes." Nadine said and nodded. The warm expression on her face shifted to a more serious cast.
"I won't waste your time, Paul. Melissa has told me a good deal of your problems. I also know you understand little of our beliefs and likely find them insipid. You at least will when I tell you why your libido is so powerful." Nadine said.
Paul cringed and felt a protest rise up within him. Melissa had never said much about her religious convictions and Paul had never pressed her on the matter. Not from a lack of interest, but out of respect and a suspicion she feared her unorthodox worldview would elicit derision.
"No," Paul said. "I really don't know much about what you and Melissa are into, but I don't think I'd call it insipid. Odd, maybe." He said.
His eyes crawled over Nadine's breasts and he could almost feel how her jutting nipples would feel between his lips. Living with Melissa the last two months had spoiled him. Her absence the last few nights and the sorrow it brought had subdued his libido somewhat. Now it awoke and Paul squirmed under its hot breath.
"What I'm about to say, I fear, will sound insipid. Or perhaps insane. Melissa has told me when and where you were born, and given the nature of your problem, its likely cause is quite interesting." Nadine said.
Oh boy, Paul thought, here we go. Melissa had given Nadine his birth date and now she was about to tell him his horoscope. He let out a breath, his spiraling lust momentarily cowed. He looked at the front door again.
"Quite simply, Paul, you were born during a Shade Storm." Nadine said.
"A what?" Paul said. He frowned and suppressed a laugh.
"I do know how it must sound to you. Absurd. Or fantastic, at best." She said.
