Another Secret of Witchcraft [Part 7]
Innocence Exposed
By A_Little_Show
Edited by A_Little_Show's spouse
Please start with Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. Many events in this chapter won't make any sense unless you know how the characters got here.
Summary so far: Andrea is a witch. She casts her spells by wiggly her clitoris instead of her nose. She's an extreme exhibitionist.
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For the hundredth time, Elfman remarked, "I can't believe how cavalier you are about your exhibitions. I love it, but how?"
Andrea tried a different explanation. "I wasn't always so confident. Ten years ago, I was a blushing little freshwoman thrust into this cauldron of lust and hormones we call a university."
"What? Ten years ago? How old ARE you?"
"What a question, Elfman. Never ask a woman her age!"
"But you look younger than me."
"By some strange series of coincidences, direct sunlight never touches my skin. That's how I retain my deathly pallor - I mean youthful glow. Don't you think?" She pattered her cheeks for emphasis.
"I bet you're popular at the beach."
She punched him playfully. "Nah. It's all good. The only inconvenience is remembering to take vitamin D supplements."
"Why are you still here?"
She put her hands on her hips. "Alright, alright, alright! That's what I love about these college boys, man. I get older, they stay the same age." She produced a reasonable Matthew McConaughey impression.
"You're kidding."
Andrea let her face fall back into resting witch mode. "I like it here. It has everything I want. I don't have to forage for food. I don't have to buy gas. I spend 6 to 9 hours a week in classes I mostly enjoy. The rest is free time to read, masturbate, dominate the universe, masturbate again, ... It's a perfect day every day."
"Wow." Elfman's eyes showed the wonder he evidently felt.
"Oh! and things take a little longer with so many do-overs."
A silence lingered as Elfman digested the information and Andrea congratulated herself.
"You were telling me about when you were an innocent blushing rose waiting to fully flower."
"I like the way you said that, Elfman. I might use it," Andrea mused.
"I want credit. But, don't change the subject. What about when you weren't confident?"
"I was still fairly confident. I had been perfecting my spells for years by then. If there was an olympic event for bean flicking, I'd have so many gold metals - I wouldn't be able to stand wearing them."
"Don't change the subject."
Just then, a fifty something man approached the table. "Hello Andrea," he greeted.
"Hello, Professor Twil. Let me introduce my lover, Elfman."
Elfman stood and extended his hand over the cafeteria table.
"Boyfriend?" The professor asked Andrea without more than a glance at Elfman.
"Lover," Andrea asserted.
Elfman beamed to hear his new title again.
The professor shuffled his feet.
"Spit those words out if they taste so bad," Andrea suggested to the man.
"Well, ah." He looked ready to flee.
"Let me guess? Rumors are flying about my history class. You people are such gossips." She scolded, and the man looked culpable.
"Blame him!" She pointed to Elfman. "It's all on him. I'm completely innocent."
The professor glanced at Elfman again and then looked down at Andrea where she sill sat. "I, ah, really just wanted to congratulate you on your paper about imaginative modes for reader comprehension overcoming implicit biases. I heard it's been accepted as a conference paper. It'll stretch our budget to send you to New Zealand though."
"Don't worry," Andrea smiled. "I have a schedule conflict and can't attend the conference anyway. Have Dr. Woods add his name as second author. You can send him if he wants to go."
Silence swirled around the table. "Well, ah. That's all then." The professor backed away.
Elfman deadpanned, "Nice to meet you, too." He sat down shaking his head in continued wonder. He asked, "You don't want to go to New Zealand?"
"It's out of range for my broom," she said, "And that's the only way I fly."
Elfman laughed, and Andrea found it contagious.
"You were telling me about your flowering sexuality." Elfman was not about to let the subject drop.
"Spot me in the gym. I'll tell you during my semiannual workout."
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Andrea's black yoga pants displayed ample camel toe, and Elfman's nose was practically swallowed by it while he knelt between her legs as directed. She used the upright machine with padded armrests and a back support. She supported herself on her back and with hand holds while her legs dangled. With her forearms on the armrests, she stretched her body from neck to outstretched legs and squeezed her thighs together pushing Elfman out like toothpaste from a tube. She slowly lifted her knees toward her chest. She held that pose for a count of two. "Now, pull my legs apart again!" She grunted between clenched teeth.
Still kneeling, Elfman had to wheedle himself between her thighs to pry her open, and once again, his nose was nearly swallowed. The ab and thigh workout had to be killer.
"One more," Andrea decided aloud. She let her parted legs slowly descend around Elfman while her knees straightened.
With the last repetition was completed, Andrea hinted, "Some coincidences are easier when you prepare." As an after thought she added, "And this machine sometimes gives me orgasms." She winked.
Elfman helped her quivering spent body out of the torture apparatus and guided her toward the women's locker room.
"No," she shook her head. "- bad associations in there. Let's use the men's."
"You want to go into the men's?" He didn't look exactly surprised.
"It's closer anyway," Andrea rationalized.
Once the pair entered, Andrea hobbled toward the open communal shower peeling away her clothes as she moved. There was nobody showering, but a handful of athletic young men sat in various stages of undress on benches between rows of lockers opposite the showers.
"You going to do this with your clothes on?" Andrea was already nude and fiddling with the temperature of a jet from the shower head above her.
"You know I'm self-conscious," Elfman reminded. "Everyone will tell stories about..."
"Do you honestly think THAT is what they are going to tell stories about?" She turned to give her spectators chance for a full frontal ogle and made her point.
Two men approached to the edge of the tiled area to get a better vantage for the show.
"Suit yourself though. I'll let one of the others wash my back."
"Don't do that," Elfman complained. "Give me a minute."
"Not too long."