Not long ago I told you about an afternoon I spent in a bar with a woman named Rachel who claimed to be a witch. Just for a quick reminder, or in case you missed the first story, Rachel cast a spell on a barmaid and the bartender that caused them to fuck their brains out while we sat and watched. OK, Rachel and I weren't just watching because we were also fucking. Also, I really didn't believe she was a witch when it turned out the bar maid knew her, but I had a little bit of trouble holding on to that conclusion when Rachel waived her hand as we walked out the door and revealed that the bar was full of people enjoying themselves who had apparently been totally unaware of our and the other couple's licentious activities. Oh, and I almost forgot the most important point--Rachel's really cute ass. She has just about the cutest little round ass I've ever seen. Oh and one more thing, she seems to think that I have very sexy eyes. Well, there is more interesting stuff than those things, but if you want the rest you will just have to read the first chapter. Hope you enjoy chapter 2.
*
A couple of days ago I walked into the coffee shop where Rachel worked but, no Rachel. I asked the guy behind the counter if she still worked there and he went ballistic.
"No! I fired that goddamned slut a week ago along with my good for nothing brother-in-law, and I should have done it months before!"
Whoa, I thought. Something must have gone seriously wrong with her spell over her boss. This guy is seriously pissed. It wasn't until later that I learned the brother-in-law had been Rachel's boss, and this guy was the owner.
"Uhh, do you know where I can find her?" I asked.
"No, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I'd just go find that bitch and kick her ass!"
"Really? What'd she do?"
"None of your god damned business and if you're a friend of hers, just get out of here. I don't need business from any of her kind, goddamn it!"
"Okay, got it," I said as I turned and headed for the door. I couldn't see any upside in staying there any longer. I wasn't going to find Rachel, and the guy behind the counter was so pissed, he looked like he might be about to take a swing at me.
There was a panhandler sitting in the sun on the sidewalk next to the café. I stood next to him for a moment trying to decide what to do next. I really did want to find Rachel, but I had no idea where to start looking. I turned and was about to walk away when, for some reason I'll never understand, I reached in my pocket and dropped a buck or two of pocket change in the panhandler's bucket. We have a lot of panhandlers in our town, so I don't always give them money, but it was a nice day and there was a lot of change in my pocket, so, what the hell, I gave it to him.
"Thanks man," he said in a cracking voice.
"Yeah," I responded, my mind not really on a conversation with the panhandler. I turned and again started to leave and then looked back at him. "Are you here all the time?" I asked.
"Sometimes," he said rather unhelpfully.
"Well do you know the little redhead that used to work in the café?"
"You mean Rachel?"
"Yeah," I said. "Long thick red hair and she has a really cute ass."
"Yeah. She was nice. Used to give me free coffee and leftover food at the end of the day." Apparently the food was more important to him than the shape of Rachel's ass. I guess I can understand that—sort of.
"Do you know where she is now? The guy inside says she doesn't work there any more."
"Are you Sam?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm Sam."
"She said you'd come by. She works in the bookstore up the street. You know, the one with the cat in the window."
I didn't know a bookstore with a cat in the window, but I said, "Thanks," and dropped another couple of bucks in his jar as I set out in the direction he had pointed.
The bookstore was in a narrow old building sandwiched between two other equally run down storefronts. Like all bookstores in this digital age, it didn't look especially prosperous—lots of inventory, but, judging from the dust on the bookcovers in the window display, not much inventory turn. The store was the kind of place where you could buy a coffee and read a bit in a book you were interested in or, on a rainy day, maybe more than just a bit. I guessed that the owner had hired Rachel to handle the coffee counter and, in a place that small, pretty much anything else that needed to be done. And sure enough, there was a store cat curled up and sleeping in the sun in the window.
As I peered through the window I could see Rachel with her mass of red hair near the back of the store. She was standing on her toes atop an old wooden crate trying to place books on a top shelf. Her posture accentuated her really fine ass. Have I mentioned what a great ass I think she has? Yeah, I guess I have.
I opened the door and stepped inside. The worn wood floors creaked a bit beneath my feet and the smell of paper and bookbindings, or whatever it is you smell in old bookstores, was strong. I noticed one other couple sitting at a table in a corner sipping their coffee. They appeared to be in their early forties, not that I cared one way or the other, but they weren't the college kids you usually find hanging out in a book store. They each had an open book in front of them, but their attention appeared to be more focused on each other than on the books before them.
I walked quietly between a couple of bookshelves until I came around the end of one and was standing directly behind Rachel. She was still standing on her toes atop the old wooden crate trying to shelve a book.
"Can't you just levitate them up there?" I asked.
My question startled her and the book she was trying to shelve slipped and fell along with a couple of others. She pirouetted on the crate, and then her eyes and smile lit up.
"Hey Sam, how's it hanging?"
"Rachel, you are so bad. That's no way to talk to a customer."
"Yes, but isn't that what you like about me, that I'm so bad?"
Sort of, I thought, plus I really like her long red hair, her sexy little round tits, and that really sexy round ass of hers. Yeah, I know, I told you about her ass. I admit I'm a little obsessed about it.
"Along with my tits and my ass," she said.
"Stop that mind reading shit! I hate it when you do that."
"Okay," she said with a laugh. "Is it okay if I do it with other people?"
"I guess so."
"Want a coffee? This is my new barista gig."
"Sure, but what happened to your old one? I went in there and the guy behind the counter almost got apoplectic when I asked if you still worked there."
"That would be Charlie," she said. "He owns the joint. The problem was that his sister caught me screwing my boss and she got Charlie to fire my ass."
"Why did she care?"
Rachel giggled. "My boss was her husband."
"Oops." I said. "I guess screwing the owner's brother in law wasn't a good plan."
"Well, I was getting tired of him anyhow. Lets just say his sexual repertoire was severely limited. I was getting bored."
"Not quite Joe Kennedy?" I asked facetiously. The first time we met, Rachel had told me she was 1,400 years old and had regaled me with stories of all of the famous people she had fucked during her extended lifetime, including most of the Kennedy clan. She seemed to be a particular fan of President Kennedy's father, Joe. Not his politics. Just his dick.
"Oh he was so not Joe Kennedy!" she said as she hopped down off the crate and snuggled into my arms.
"Well I can think of much better things to do with your ass than fire it," I said as I let my hands run down her back and then cup her ass cheeks and pull her even more tightly into me.
"Oh you are having impure thoughts again," she said as she rubbed her tits back and forth across my chest. Then she pulled back and said, "Lets get that coffee. You can keep thinking impure thoughts while I make the coffee. They're fun. You have such a dirty mind."
I wanted to object to her mind reading, but I knew it was a lost cause, so I just said okay and followed her back to the front of the store for the coffee. She made us each a latte.
"Are you still reading my thoughts?" I asked.
"Yes, and they are very naughty. I love it."
"You know it's all your fault," I said.
"How so?"
"Well, I never have impure thoughts except when I've been ogling your ass."
"Not true, and you know it."
"Okay," I laughed. "You got me on that one. My mind will get dirty sometimes even if you're not around."
"It's one of your more redeeming qualities."
"My dirty mind?"
"Yes. It's almost as dirty as Casanova's."
"I guess I'm not surprised Casanova had a dirty mind given his reputation."
"You just can't imagine how dirty his mind was and how much I enjoyed it."
"I think I can imagine how much you enjoyed it, but I would hate to think my dirty mind is in Casanova's league."
"Oh you're closer than you think," she said.
Changing the subject, I asked, "Isn't there someone else's thoughts you could read for awhile, just to give me a chance to compose mine. I promise to come up with something really dirty if you let me have a moment to think about what I want to do to your ass. I'll make it really graphic."
"Okay. See that couple over there in the corner?" referring to the couple I had noticed when I came in. They were the only people in the place other than Rachel and me.
"Yeah. What are they thinking about?"
"All he is thinking about is getting his cock into her pussy."
"And what is she thinking about?" I asked.
"Same thing. But neither one of them knows what the other is thinking."
I winked at Rachel and said, "What a shame. Isn't there something you can do about that with all your witch powers?"
"You are doing that thing with your eyes again. Every time you do that it makes my pussy start to tingle."
"Stay on task," I said. "What are we going to do about the couple in the corner?"