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Gypsy

By: LaPlume



I felt you enter the room, although at first I didn't know what caused that tingling down my spine. I looked up, and met your eyes. You had paused just inside the door, and were staring at me.

I returned your stare, paralyzed with sudden desire. Then the crowd closed between us, and I lost sight of you. After a moment someone spoke to me, and I returned to the task of setting up my table.

I had been invited to the charity event as a fortune teller, and I enjoyed my evening, surprising my friends who didn't recognize me in my costume with my knowledge of their lives. The word of the 'gypsy fortune teller' spread through the hall, and I was kept very busy. But through it all I watched for you, hoping you would come to me. I still felt that tingle in my bones, so I knew you were present, but look though I might I could not see you.

At last it was time for my scheduled break, and I pulled the curtain across the front of my booth. The hall was very warm with the mass of humanity pressing through it, and I escaped to the front lobby. Leaning against the wall just inside the door, I felt the cool October night breeze against my heated cheeks.  I closed my eyes, and a second later felt a new sensation from the direction of the hall. I looked, and there you were, smiling at me. You asked if you could join me. I could only nod. My lips felt swollen with lust; I was afraid they would not form words, but only panting moans.

You took my hand and kissed my knuckle in a courtly gesture. I blushed with eagerness, you laughed and asked if you had embarrassed me. I found my tongue, but felt I must stay in character - there were others present who would know my natural voice. I denied embarrassment, and you complimented me on my unusual accent. I laughed, very low, and leaned forward to whisper to you that it was false. Your hand came up as I spoke, and rested on my shoulder, the warmth of your palm sweeping through me to send an urgent signal to my deepest self.

You looked at me without speaking. I murmured that it was too hot inside - would you care to step outside into the fresh air? You nodded, and I took your hand to show the way. I knew where I wanted to lead you, and every breath you took told me you were a willing follower. I guided you to a spot around the side of the building, under a window but hidden from casual observers by a half wall and some shrubbery. I leaned back against the wall and gazed up into your eyes with invitation. For one despairing moment I thought I had misread you, but then you smiled, and your lips found mine.

The thickness of the dark wig I wore cushioned my head, and the long curls brushed across my breasts where they rose from the tight bodice of my costume.  Your fingers traced the line, and I gasped with tension. You touched your tongue to the warm pulse below my ear, and as I melted I thought of how it would be to be devoured by you, the vampire in the night. Your hands pulled my hips to yours, and I swayed against you, feeling through my several petticoats the evidence of your desire. My own hands rose to caress your neck and shoulders, and I nibbled my way along the firm line of your jaw. 

You asked me some question I hardly heard through the pounding of my own heart, and I murmured assent.  You could have asked me anything and I would have agreed. A moment later you knelt there before me, and with delight I realized what permission I had granted. My lace trimmed underskirts and the full red taffeta above were gathered in your determined hands, and thrust up. I grasped at them, to free you, and your breath was hot against my thigh. The first pressure of your lips against my skin nearly collapsed my knees. I braced myself more firmly in the corner of the wall, and lightly stroked your hair with my free hand. Your fingers traced a message on the backs of my knees, and I sighed softly.  Above us music floated out of the open window into the night. I swayed in time with it, eager to speed the joy I knew you offered. My impatience made me spread my legs a little further, offering my pouting cunt to you if you would rise to meet it. 

You spoke then, some soothing word to promise eventual satisfaction, but still your lips moved away, around my thigh to my hip. I moaned, and you chuckled, taunting me with your tongue in lazy circles over the bone. My hand gripped your hair gently, and you shook your head slightly, warning me not to push. I moved my hand down over your shoulders, begging you with my fingers to let me show you the way as I had already done. In answer you stroked your hand across the curls that guarded the prize. I gasped and shuddered, so strongly did I want that hand to tarry on its journey. You stroked again, and again, and with each pass, I pressed my mound against your palm, begging for more.

Then you brought your lips to follow, brushing across the gateway as your hand swept down over my thighs, and then rising up between them to tease the outermost edges of my cunt. I curved my back, trying to bring my entire pussy forward for you to kiss, but you slid your tongue instead into the crease between my leg and that heated mount. I pressed my own belly with the hand that held my skirts, and bit back a cry. Your other hand slid around behind me, and stroked down the crease of my ass, as though searching for some lost treasure. I trembled, longing to beg you to suck me, but mindful of the open window above us. I had not long to wait, though it seemed an eternity. Your tongue slid down the length of that crease beside my pussy, and up the other side, then, hesitantly, you touched it to the top of the valley. I whispered encouragement, and you smiled - all through me I could feel that smile, though I could not see it. My eyes were closed in ecstasy.

Your tongue pressed firmly down, opening the lips of my cunt as it sought the opening at the base of the valley. Your hand behind me slid down again, and a finger tip soon pressed against my asshole. I choked back a scream - how had you guessed that that sensation of all others would bring me to the brink of orgasm? Your tongue darted into me, and I pressed downward to meet it. Your other hand came up to frame your lips, and press mine apart. With broad, sweeping strokes your tongue massaged the warm, wet slit. I shivered, and in response you slid that waiting fingertip into my ass. I squirmed in delight, and thrust my pelvis against your face, my free hand still resting on your hair. 

I dared not grasp, for I was afraid I would hurt you in my eagerness to bring your tongue into me. But you seemed to know, and soon it was sliding back into that waiting hole, in and out in ageless rhythm. Your finger in my ass echoed your tongue's dance and I growled deep in my throat at the sensations rising through me. As the rhythm changed, you sucked gently at my clit, then rose, keeping that one hand firmly behind me, never relenting in its motion. I ground my hips against you, begging you to fill me, and you buried your juice-slicked face between my tits, where they lay half-covered by black velvet. I reached to free your cock from where it lay imprisoned, and in a moment it sprang out, hard and ready. I stroked it with joyful welcome, and you moved to bring it nearer its goal. 

It was hardly necessary that I guide it in, so surely did you move, but in a moment I was filled with your cock in my cunt, and your finger in my ass. My mind filled for a moment with the taste of your cock, and I knew that I would beg you soon to let me suck you, to feel your balls against my lips, and your hair against my cheeks. But for now, you were inside me, your cock pumping into me with strong, eager thrusts. My cunt throbbed, and I gasped against your neck. Waves of tingling, whirling orgasm took me, and I sobbed my passion into your throat.

As my climax passed, I once more joined you in rhythm, driving harder toward your satisfaction, but shortly you paused, and murmured a question to me. Gleefully, I nodded. It was what I had longed for. You slid yourself from my dripping cunt, and turned yourself to lean against the wall. I fell to my knees and worshipped the dark triangle of the altar before me. My mouth swelled with lust, and I gently took your shaft in my hands, feeling the sticky remnants of my own juices drying on it. I took the head of your rigid cock between my lips, and slid my tongue gently around the rim of its smooth cap. You murmured something, and rested your hands on my shoulders. I sucked softly, still acquainting myself with the mingled tastes of my juices and yours. Then I slid my lips down, down along the shaft to fill my nostrils with the warm scent of your balls beneath my chin. Your pelvis thrust against me, driving your cock deep into my throat. I moved my tongue against it, sucking deep and massaging the shaft with my own strong muscle.

I stroked your balls with firm fingers, searching between them for the root of your cock. My cunt dripped with longing as my lips slid back and forth along the base of your cock, my tongue swirling around the column inside. You moved in gentle rhythm, and I hummed deep inside with joy at the fulfillment of my need. Faster and faster I rocked on my knees, holding your ass in the curve of one arm to brace myself against you. At last I felt the surging pulse against my tongue, and my mouth was filled with bittersweet flavor.

I held still, savoring the thrusts of your climax against my lips. And then, when you were finished, I rose to kiss your waiting mouth with the taste of your cum fresh in mine.

Gypsy and Raven: It's in the Cards



It had been a year since Raul had met the fiery goddess Leandra. He never forgot how perfectly he had filled her. He remembered how insatiable she was, her sharp claws scratching down his back and the pointed ears that wiggled when she laughed, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as she screamed out his mortal name. Since that time much had changed in his life. In the beginning he had devoted most of his life to sculpting and recreating the temptress. He went around to faires and conventions selling his art. He had begun painting again; a talent that seemed wasted and had died with his dreams of art school. In bitterness and out of a job and no money for classes, he thought that perhaps those artists, who did go to art school, weren't artists at all, for after all, are they starving? There had been women in his life, but they had breezed in and out of his life. No mortal woman could compete with a goddess, he'd even confided with one such woman about his encounter and wild tryst with the halfling. Her name was Leona.

Leona was as dark as Leandra was fair. She long black hair, which hung loose and swayed when she walked, almond shaped deep brown eyes, and mocha-latte skin. She was an artist too. She had met Raul at a ren. Faire five months ago. Leona didn't seek to replace the fire in Raul's heart, but wanted to be part of the magic too. Ever since her childhood she'd had dreams of encounters with magic and mythical beings. She was a painter and she painted winged beings. She wouldn't categorize them as angels, or faeries, or devas, or animals; they simply were. Raul was out at the truck loading up his sculptures and paintings. She put on a flowing skirt and a peasant shirt to match. She slipped on her leather thongs and completed her ensemble with tear-drop turquoise earings, a matching gold torque, and gold arm band. She looked every bit as much as the gypsy that ran through her blood. She ran outside with her paintings and drawings under her arm and nearly crashed into her boyfriend Raul. "CAW" screeched a black shape soaring over her head. She looked up and saw the Raven land on a telephone wire. Its head tilted, watching her intently.

"Are we ready Leo?" Raul asked, reaching for her art to load up. Leona pointed up and Raul looked and saw the Raven. There was a knot in the pit of his stomach as he said, "Stupid crow."

"Ready as ever. Maybe today will be a lucky day for us." 

"Everyday is lucky with you in my life." Gushed Raul. At first Leona had thought that Raul's charm and chivalry was ruse of seduction, but had learned after five blissful months that Raul was the real thing. He was the closest a guy ever came to being perfect, a true ren. Man. She wondered how she had gotten so lucky, but thanked the universe instead. Leona swung her backpack up into the truck and followed it. She felt something big would happen today, for both of them. They pulled up to the faire and parked in the spot designated for vendors. Raul began unloading the truck and setting up their booth and Leona picked up her backpack and jumped down. As she jumped down her tarot cards spilled all over the wet ground. She bent to pick them up and the Devil card was face up staring at her. 

Arden had been watching the girl from an oak branch a few feet away. She intrigued him and he desired her for his own. She was a strong sorceress, although she was only beginning to learn her powers. He thought he might be able to help her hone her skills. He had timed things perfectly. Her tarot cards fell out of the bag, just as he made his way toward the exotic bloom. He towered over her. A shadow fell over Leona, blocking the sun. She looked up, clutching the Devil card in her hand. She gasped seeing the man before her. He had cropped black hair and intense turquoise eyes, or were they simply reflecting her jewelry? She searched around for Raul, trying to mentally grab his attention, but he was nowhere to be seen. The man bent down and helped her pick up the cards. He handed them to her and as his hands touched hers the hair on her skin prickled up. She leaped away from him.

"Thank you." She said, but he grabbed her hand before she could stand up. She felt dizzy with the touch and sat down where she was. Still, his hands held hers. He looked over their hands and spotted the Devil card. 

"What does that card mean?" His voice was smooth and had a deep timbre to it. It was like music to her ears. "The Devil. Am I?" He mused, asking her playfully. 

"It means ambition, wild abandon, and excess." She answered.

"Temptation, seduction, danger, control." The man finished.

"Reversed it means confronting fears, overcoming." Leona continued, trying to concentrate on the meaning of the card.

"Control." He said, running his fingers up her dark arm. She took a deep breath.

"No, freedom from bondage, releasing of the chains that bind." She finished.

"I see, and was the card right side up or reversed?" He inquired. His eyes penetrating her shield.

"It landed sideways." She said weakly. 

"If you had to pick?" She felt a tingling at the back her head which always served as a warning for her. She grabbed the card and stood up, moving away from him.

"It is a warning of danger."

"Ah. You see me as dangerous, don't you little lion?"

"Don't call me that!"

"Isn't it your name?" She stared at him hard.

"How do you know my name? Raul, Raul." She raised her voice, frantic. The man reached for her again. She went into self-defense mode and knocked him off balance. "I'll call the police."

"I don't intend to hurt you." The expression on his face, wounded. In the scuffle she dropped her tarot cards again and the Lovers card sat face up. She reached down to pick it up but his foot stood on it.

"What have we here, ah yes the Lovers card." He considered. "Where is yours, kitten? You do realize you can't compete with a goddess don't you? She will always be in his mind, in his heart, in his soul." His words froze her to her place. How did he know?

"Who the fuck are you?" She demanded. "If this is a sick joke it really isn't funny." She couldn't help gazing into his eyes and couldn't help feeling he was trying to entrance her. She knew men like this, her father had told her of men from the old days, of dark magic. Not the divination and healing that her family did. He was dressed like a highwayman and the costume suited him; a puffy crimson shirt with gold ribbing, a sword at his side, black breaches, and some type of amulet hung from his neck. 

"Although I'm not in the habit of granting wishes, I can make him forget her, if you wish it of me. Only a small price would need to be paid. And relax; it's not your soul I am after." 

"What's your name?" Realizing she was not going to be winning this argument, she figured she'd learn more about him while she waited for Raul to come. She knew he wouldn't harm her, she felt it within.

"Arden and you've seen me before today, haven't you? I am one of your delightful wing-ed ones."

"The raven." Understanding dawned on her. "You are exactly as I envisioned you, but I haven't been able to perfect the painting." Artistic interest took precedence over her pride. 

"Yes, I am your muse." He answered in her head. "I am not mortal, but you know that as well. You know a lot about me, don't you? More than you should, I would say. So, angel the Lovers, a card about choice." He paused, for affect. "Raul, your mortal lover, who doesn't love you. Or your muse, who worships the ground you walk upon and will adore you forever. Tough decision, my sweet. I will give you time to think on it. Until then." He kissed her hand and walked away.

"Leave her alone, Arden. You've caused enough problems." Leandra whispered in his ear, nibbling on it. He had returned to their sanctuary in the woods.

"But love, she's so delectable. You are the one that caused the problems, not I. Don't forget that." Leandra sighed, bored of the subject. She stood up.

"Do you intend on going to Raul? If you do, Leona will be mine, I'm warning you." He decided to play fair for once.

"What does it matter, if I said yes, or if I said no? You do what you want anyway. I am tired of this game we play Arden."

"You are right."

"Unless..." She let the word hang in the air, a smirk on her face, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Unless what? Leandra." Her intention could be read on her face. He kissed her luscious lips. "You wouldn't, would you?" His hardness rising at the thought.

"She is beautiful. I think I should like to play with her, instead of you. I always get my own way too." She grabbed his cock and rubbed it slowly up and down.

"Point taken. We could share her, Lea."

"I don't like to share my conquests." She growled out as Arden sucked on her earlobe.

"Mmm I do so wish to see you and her together. If not share, will you let me watch then?" His fingers slipped beneath her shirt and he pinched her left nipple and chewed on her lower lip. Leandra thought about the game they were playing. Arden had no shame and no remorse, but she did. She thought on the matter, the pounced onto her immortal lover and seized his erection in her hand, circling over the very sensitive tip, causing the muscles in his stomach lurch.

"I suppose it would be only fair to let you play with her a bit before she met the true Devil, the She variety." She would wait and bide her time. She didn't want to harm the couple, simply toy with them. She was afraid for the girl, as Arden had a way with words and magic. Her presence had brought good things into Raul's life. She didn't know what Arden's presence would bring to the girl. At least this way, if Arden became obsessed with seduction, he wouldn't harm his prey. It would keep him busy, until she devised a plan. 

"You may have a taste of her first, my love. But save some for me, she has soft looking lips." She announced, sliding off of him and sauntering out of the room.

Leona was standing by the truck when Raul had come back from setting up. She hugged him tightly. "God I'm glad to see you."

"What was that for baby? I'm glad to see you too."

"A really freaky guy came up to me just a few minutes ago. He was dressed as a highwayman, tall, dark."

"Handsome?" He kissed her passionately.

"Stop that. Yes handsome, OK? But creepy, he gave me the chills. I'm surprised you didn't see him, considering there aren't that many of us on grounds yet." She peered around him. "The thing is, the Devil Card came up and there he was."

"The tarot Devil? But you said that's not..." He started.

"Yes the Devil card and you know what? He knew what the Devil card meant and he mixed my words up."

"You got tongue-tied over a highwayman

"You got tongue-tied over a highwayman." He arched his eyebrow. "Was he hot?" She swatted his shoulder. "Well, was he?"

"In a horror-flick sorta way, yah I guess." Raul hadn't seen Leona shaken up over anything, ever, so he knew she must really have been creeped out by the guy. "We can go report him if you want to. I have to go pay the rent for our booth. Do you want to ride along and then we'll report him?" Leona was ticked off at herself for feeling so vulnerable about Arden. 

"Nope, I'll be fine. Besides, I want to stay here and start displaying these masterpieces." She indicated, sweeping her arm across the artwork. Raul hesitated.

"I'd feel better if you went with me. But I know that the more I push for you to come with me, the more you will go feminist on me and tell me you're a strong woman." He kissed her cheek. 

"You've got my card, don't you?" She laughed. Well, will this reassure you?" She grinned, bending over and showing Raul her cleavage. Nestled between her breasts there was a flash from her dagger. Raul knew she was an experienced fencer and was trained in martial arts as well. She was more than capable of handling herself in a dangerous situation. 

"One of these days you will have to teach me how to use one of those." Raul sighed, hugging her and climbing into the truck.

"How about tonight, under the full moon?" She suggested, seriously. 

"Naked?" He laughed at her.

"If you want me to be." She winked as he drove off down the path. Leona set about displaying her paintings and his sculptures. She made sure the sunlight and moonlight would hit each piece perfectly, enhancing the affect, casting a glow of mystery. She didn't hear the footsteps, nor did she see the shadow the shape cast, but she did feel the warning tingle at the back of her neck. She swung around full force, with her fist raised prepared to slam down and connect with her assailant's balls. But she was too late. An arm went around her waist. 

"I told you I wouldn't hurt you." The deep male voice whispered into her ear. She grabbed for her dagger. "Ah yes, I know how adept you are at fighting. But I'm not a fighter, I'm a lover." He took a deep breath savoring the smell of her long dark hair. "If you promise not to reach for that pretty piece of metal between your luscious breasts, I will release you."

"Bastard! What the fuck do you want?" She lifted her foot up and slammed it down on his foot, like a little child having a tantrum. He laughed at her. "My boyfriend will be back any minute now." She threatened. Arden let her continue to fight, blocking each move she made. He admired her gusto and her technique. 

"I don't believe he will be back for another, oh I'd say, fifteen minutes." He predicted. 

"He's a better fighter than me and strong, really strong, has a six-pack." He chuckled at her.

"And rippling muscles I suppose." He finished, watching her nod her head in the affirmative. "I've seen your Raul, Leona. The only thing Raul does with those weak muscles of his is catch some waves." Leona stared at him, wondering in her head how he seemed to know so much about them.

"It's my job to know." He answered in his head. She rolled her eyes. "See, you aren't the only one that can use mental prowess and telepathy. You are a great sorceress, little Lion. You have great abilities, if you would just learn to use them. I could teach you how to do things. Not reading tarot cards and telling fortunes. I could teach you great things." He promised her. His gaze was locked on hers and she felt herself losing control, she wanted to swim in his aqua eyes. Leona could feel her shield being permeated and breached. 

"I only use my abilities for good." She said coldly, ripping her gaze from his, remembering all her father had taught her about men like him. Arden wasn't one to turn down a good challenge and that is just what she presented to him. He was pleased to realize she knew her strength and her capacity for power, it suited her. His body was warm and he smelled of earth. Her head was spinning and she was losing her edge. She tried hard to focus but the dizziness came, as it always did. 

"I have to sit down, now." She demanded. 

"Very well." Arden replied.

"I don't need help, I'm not a child." She stated flatly. Arden let go of her. 

"You certainly aren't." Arden said under his breath. "Are you OK?" He asked, the concern she heard in his voice, seemingly genuine.

"Just a bit dizzy. I just need food and a drink." She took a few steadying breaths, as he guided her to the chair and sat her down. "My food is in the truck." She said weakly.

"Not to worry." Arden produced a golden apple and a water bottle from thin air. She took the apple, opened her mouth to bite it and stopped. "It's not poisonous Leona, take a bite." Knowing if she didn't get her blood sugar back up she'd be flat on the floor anyway, she bit into the apple. It was juicy, sweet, and crisp. She ate the apple, staring out at the horizon, willing Raul to come back now.

"You have a strong will." Arden observed. He squatted in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. 

"My father used to tell me that." Arden saw the play of emotions on her face. He reached out and stroked her cheek gently. 

"Feeling better?" She hated to admit it, but she did feel better and she was actually grateful Arden had been there with food. She nodded her thanks. Arden tilted his head like a bird, considering her. "You fascinate me. How is it that you can penetrate my shields and ignore my glances? You are one strong woman. The only woman," he began to say, but saw the look of disapproval on her face, "scratch that, the only person that has ever been able to see through me and outwit me, is my mate. She's a lioness as well." This irked Arden, but he had to admire her for it. As he stroked her cheek again she leaned against his hand, betraying her response to a male's touch.

"You are a beautiful woman. Does he ever tell you that? No, I didn't think so. At least, not since the goddess." He surmised. 

"How do you know so much about us?" Leona asked. "Who are you?"

"It is my job to know. I am a thorough researcher. I know much about you Leona and I wish to learn more. I know of your Raul because it is my mate who entranced him." The words brought stinging tears to her eyes. She bit her lip, thinking about it. Arden touched her lips, tracing them. "Be careful, you'll break the skin. Such soft lips." Arden said, kissing her lips. Leona sighed. His lover, the reason Raul hadn't touched her for months, she wanted to forget that. She didn't back away from him, which encouraged Arden to deepen the kiss.

"You should stop." Leona whispered, her stomach aflutter. 

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked. She didn't answer, her mind went cloudy again. She didn't want to think. She closed her eyes and let herself feel. 

"What are you doing to me?" She asked, as he touched her.

"I would call this seduction. Is it working?"

"I have a boyfriend, I can't be doing this."

"Yes you do, and I have a mate. It wouldn't surprise me if they weren't together now." Arden tested the waters, entangling his fingers in her hair, his tongue tracing her lips.

"Don't." She pushed him away from her.

"Don't stop? I don't intend on stopping." Arden kissed her neck.

"Yes. No, no, don't talk about them, please." She saw no point in arguing and stopping him when it felt so good. She returned the kiss. "You should go. I can't do this." She started to push him away. She immediately felt the cold space the absence of his body left.

"You don't have to do anything then. You can't be at fault if you don't return my affections. Just sit there and feel. When's the last time he touched you" He put his hand on her heart, "here?" She could hear her heartbeat, it was racing. "Or here?" Arden moved his hand to her left breast and cupped it. He pushed her hair behind her ear and sucked on her earlobe. "Or here?" His hot breath whispered in her ear.

"Too long." She replied, opening her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek. Arden leaned over her and licked the tear drop dry, savoring the salty flavor. She told herself to stop crying, to stop being weak. Her dagger was still in her bra and she could very quickly have it in her hand and slash it across his face. But did she really want to mar such dark perfection? Did she want him to stop? Truly, she knew inside, she didn't want it to stop. She didn't want to think about her relationship with Raul, or Raul's trysts with Leandra, she just wanted to feel satisfied. She knew that this raven man could satiate her longings. But at what cost? She asked herself. 

"Raul will be coming soon." She stated matter of factly. 

"Yes, when is the last time he made you come?" The question threw her off guard and she got defensive, jumping up off the chair and putting the chair between herself and his hot body. 

"That's none of your business."

"I make it my business." He said, tired of the game. He spoke a word and the chair disappeared. He took a menacing step closer to her.

"I'll scream."

"Oh I don't doubt you will." He smirked. "But regardless, no one will hear you."




Gypsy and Raven: It's in the Cards



"You can't do anything to me against my will. If this is a spell you've conjured, to make me fall into your arms and forget Raul, it won't work. Raul is bound to me and I am bound to him."

Arden rolled his eyes, growing impatient by the minute. "Yes, I know, as my mate is bound to me, so I am bound to her. I know the rules very well. But you are forgetting one thing."

"What?"

"I'm immortal and I have all the time in the world to wait for you. You do not have that luxury. I will wait, for now. You are crafty and you are right, but rules don't really apply to me. Nevertheless, now is not the time." So saying, Arden shifted his shape and flew away on Raven's wing. Raul returned shortly to a very shaken up Leona.

"Leo, what's wrong?"

"That guy, he was here. Just now, he was trying to. Oh God, hold me."

"Did he hurt you? I'll kill him."

"You can't."

"I can. I might not be as good at things as you but I can kill someone that wants to hurt the woman I love."

"No, no Raul, listen to me, you can't kill him. He's immortal, just like Leandra. They are mates." Raul squeezed Leona fiercely. "It's a game to them, don't you see that?"

"She loves me."

"Raul, wake up, Leandra, the woman you are obsessed about, she's a goddess. She's a powerful woman with powerful magic. Her mate Arden, the raven he is as powerful, if not more powerful than she is. They are playing with us, like we are pawns, characters in a story. I won't have it. I refuse to be a part of their game. I am no puppet and I belong to no man." Leona explained, frustrated with him. Raul just stared at her, blankly, still not seeming to comprehend.

"But, Leona she loves me. I love her. You are wrong about her. This Arden is telling you stories, telling lies. I can't stop thinking about her, about my goddess." Leona pushed him away, hurt.

"You, you love her?" Her body trembled with anger. "You love someone that toys with your heart and has you under a spell? She's not real. She's not human. She's a memory. How can you love a memory Raul?"

"Stop, you're wrong about her." Raul said trying to defend Leandra.

"You'll never see her again, you're a toy to her." Shouted Leona.

"Look how they fight over us." Arden said as he took Leandra to climax, being careful of her growing stomach. He kissed the baby through her stomach. "He will be a beautiful baby, my love. I wish I could have given him to you." Arden said, sincerely.

"Have you had enough fun with these two yet?" She asked, her eyes slitted more than usual.

"I haven't even touched her."

"Liar, I saw you kiss her. I'm bored. We're finished with them. You should say goodbye to her and I will say goodbye to Raul." Leandra tried to keep her voice bored and even, she had to let Arden think it was his idea to leave the couple to their own devices. He didn't like where the game was heading. The less contact with Leona and less complications the better. They could get back to loving each other.

"I'm not finished with her. She must fall helplessly in love with me, the way he did with you. I won't have it any other way." Arden said stubbornly. "I will not let you win." He stood up abruptly tumbling her to the ground and stomped away. Leandra decided to give it a few more days before she intervened on the girl's behalf. She just hoped that she will be smart enough to entertain her jealous lover, rather than make him chase his prey the way she chased hers.

Leona was sitting in front of the campfire, alone. She and Raul had parted ways after the faire had ended. He had gone with faire friends to get drunk and party. The conversation had ended badly and they had more or less broken up. Leona had her Tarot deck out and was shuffling through it. She'd stopped crying an hour ago. The Hanged Man card came up, a card that indicated a tough decision, choosing one direction as opposed to another, often in relationships.

"Stupid cards, the choice is already made." She threw her cards down and stared into the fire. She concentrated on the flames, willing the flames to rise higher. The flames obeyed her command, rising high. She had not used her abilities in a few months and had grown restless. Now, with the feeling of power in her hands again, she felt whole and complete. She didn't need Raul, or any other man for that matter. Resolved to work on taking care of herself and going after what she wanted, she stood up.

"A card of choices." The deep timbre brought tingles to her neck and her heart began racing. "What choice will the gypsy sorceress make?"

"What do you want? I don't care if you're some type of immortal being, you're still a man and I have no use for a man right now. I can't stand the sight of any of you. Go back to your precious mate. Find someone else to be the pawns in your sick love game." She commanded.

"I do not take orders. Is that what you think this is, a game? A challenge of forces? You are sorely mistaken. Seduction yes, of course there's seduction involved, but a game? This is more serious than most things I've encountered and felt in a long time. I wish to teach you, to train you, to hone your abilities."

"To use me." She spit out.

"It is you that plays a game, a dangerous game." He stated, seizing her in his arms and holding her against his body. She felt his heart beating and his hard erection, aroused by her. He rubbed it against her, letting her feel what she did to him. He was a man of control, he had a handle on his loins, but he couldn't ignore the fire she lit within him. She put her arms around his neck and turned her face into his neck, smelling his pure masculinity. She slipped her hands into his shirt feeling the muscles rippling on his chest. 

"The choice Leona." She kissed his mouth, her tongue sliding against his, sucking it into her mouth. "Love or lust?" He demanded her answer, although he already knew what she would say. He counted on it. "Say it."

"Lust."

Leandra watched from the shadows. She saw the girl manifest and control the fire, saw the power within her that she missed in a jealous moment. She was more concerned for her well being now than ever before. Arden would not stop at anything now. It was imperative for Leona to follow his lead, at least until she could get her alone to warn her of hiswicked ways. She knew the lure, Arden the trickster, pan incarnate and she loved him. This was not simply another seduction, magick was involved which made the game more dangerous than ever. The green eyed monster bit her, when she saw the girl resist her mate's advances. She was a powerful sorceress. She was afraid that with his "training" she might even usurp her. That was not an option. She had to continue to think about the child she carried, he would continue her line. She remembered that it was not the man, but the woman who mattered.

Leona felt herself losing ground. She didn't like feeling out of control, but around him she couldn't help it. She felt drugged, lust ran through her veins. "Say it again." He commanded. "You cannot force me." "No need, you will desire me more than you've ever wanted a man in your life." "No I won't. I know mind control when I feel it." "It's in your head Leona."

She refused to say it again, but continued kissing him. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. She could hear the motor of the truck as it announced Raul's arrival. She tried to unlock her legs, to free herself from him, but he held her tighter. She couldn't let Raul see her like this it would break his heart. She wasn't given a choice in the matter, but wouldn't have to worry about Raul. She felt very dizzy and closed her eyes, wind was whipping around and there was a rushing sound in her ears. When she reopened her eyes, she gasped. She was no longer anywhere she recognized. Gone was the faire grounds, gone the woods that skirted them. She seemed to be in an ancient structure of some sort. There were pillows all around, rich hues of violet and green. She lay on a bed of silver silk, she slid her body against the fabric, relishing the coolness against her smooth legs, she was alone. She sat up and breathed in the intoxicating scent of jasmine. Unlit candles surrounded the bed. She was unsure whether they were atmospheric or had another purpose altogether. She wanted to know what scent they would give off. She loved candles and was intrigued by these. Arden knew this and so there was nothing lying around to light the candles. He watched her from above, silent with anticipation. Unable to contain herself any longer Leona knelt in front of one of the candles and cupped her hands around it. She blew gently into her hands, the small wick sparked a moment, before it flickered and grew to life. Leona stood in the bed, giggling, and spun around with her arms flung outward. Then she waved her hand over each candle and lit it with but a whisper.

Arden smiled to himself, pleased. She was a vision, her body lit by the dancing flames, swaying to unknown music, her long black locks swinging with the dance. Her dark brown eyes burned with passion. She was a flame dancing, her stomach muscle tensing and releasing, serpentine grace and movement. She seemed to move to the rhythm of his heart beating. Arden could resist no longer, he wanted that power and what Arden wanted Arden got. He would have to be subtle and crafty for she was powerful. He moved quickly and silently. Leona's attention was focused on the flames and she barely felt him as he lifted her into his arms and sunk his teeth into her tender shoulder. She gasped, staring into his eyes, seeing her own eyes burning with the fire of something unknown. He held her shoulders and turned her away from him, holding her against him. He swept her hair away, exposing her graceful neck and tender ear to his lips. He touched her skin, bringing chills to the surface.

"So beautiful, so powerful." He whispered into her ear. She stood still, frozen. Warmth having left her completely. She shivered, teeth chattering. She felt the energy draining from her body, she didn't know how to stop it. She felt herself growing weak. He dug his fingers in her skin. 

"What are you...d-doing to me? You fiend." She turned abruptly, trying to shake death grip on her. "Stop ,you're hurting me." Arden was no longer in control of anything. His thirst for power superseding all rational thought. Leona struggled but finally was able to say the words, fire rose up around her body, protecting her. Arden let go and stumbled backwards, unharmed by the fire. He stood up and composed himself. He wouldn't let his countenance show his surprise at underestimating the force of magick within her. She glowed brightly, brighter than he did and he shielded his eyes with his arm. This was not going as smoothly as he had planned it would. The High Priestess card slid off the cushions and landed, staring him in the face, mocking him. Leona's attention was focused on maintaining her shield. 

"Leandra so help me if you are meddling in this..." Began Arden. Leona stared at him. 

"Don't speak her name. There is no one here but you and I and you damn well know that crow." Leona spat. Arden hissed his objection and dwarfed her small frame with his huge presence. But Leona refused to back down. She had taken back her power and knew she was limitless. She stood her ground. 

"I normally enjoy playing with my prey, but check mate will get us nowhere. You exhaust me!" Arden shouted, infuriated. "You are perhaps even more exhausting than Lea." The light of the flames danced in Arden's midnight hair. His eyes glowed a cool blue and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his body. It was sexy and she began to feel intoxicated once more.

"No tricks." She shook her head, trying to shake the spell she was sure she was under. Arden sighed heavily.

"As much as I wish I could take credit for a brilliant weaving of magick, alas I cannot. Here's the thing, I have no power over you. You've proven that much. You hold something over me and that puts me in a precarious position, whether you know it or not. But, come, I digress. Your current lover brings you little pleasure, I could pleasure you beyond your wildest fantasies, you know this is true." Leona sat on the bed, in a position to listen. "What lies within you I have tried to take and yet cannot. I am barred from that vantage point."

"Is there a point to all of this?" Leona asked, staring at the High Priestess card. She yawned, bored. In the blink of an eye he had advanced upon her, toppling her into the cushions of the bed. Pinning her beneath his straining body. 

"The point." He whispered into her ear, dragging his fingers through her long tresses, before seizing her mouth in a bruising kiss. "is...I have no control over you."

"Well, duh, did you just realize that?" She tried to laugh, but the sound stuck in her throat. 

"And you are driving me insane with lust. What spell have you got me under?" Arden's voice begged to know her secret.

"A god bent to the will of a mere mortal, I wish we had a video camera. This, I'm sure hasn't happened in like thousands, millions of years, I would venture to wager." Leona stated calmly, enjoying his discomfit.

"You are no mere mortal." As if in answer to Arden's realization blinding lightning flashed. A deafening echo crashed, plunging the two into total darkness. An unfamiliar energy overtook the room, something primal and ancient. A smell of sulfur hung in the air. There was no fumbling in the dark or hesitant touches. All barriers to flesh were removed, quickly, a long skirt flying over her head, her tunic shredded. Leona cringed when she saw the droplets of blood forming on her perfect breasts. She hadn't noticed Arden's long talons, for his hands were in black satin gloves, until now. She hesitated, her fingers working the flesh of his manhood. 

"It stings, for but a minute." He whispered, lowly in her ear, before dipping his head down and sucking on a nipple, urging her on. Pain or no pain, there was no turning back for her now, she needed him inside her. She slid from underneath his weight. He didn't protest but he didn't help her either. He was curious to see what she intended. He began to sit up, but was thrown back down. She slithered up his body and rolled on top of him, locking her thighs around him. She seized him and slid onto his throbbing member. He was within her all the way to the hilt. He couldn't believe how deeply she took him into her. She was more serpent than feline as she rode him, her body responding as it did when she belly-danced. Quick cat like movements coupled with long thrusts. She sat way back on his legs and arched her back. His hands grabbed each breast, squeezing them. She lowered herself over his body, giving him access to her bouncing breasts, her nipples peaked high. He held on to her writhing body, slamming up to meet each thrust. Her eyes were closed and she was singing in a strange language, lost in trance. 

His eyes flew open, upon hearing the words she sang, fear seized his heart. A prophecy of long ago rang in his head. The Tower card, a card of challenge, change, and movement lay beneath her knee. A gypsy queen would be his downfall, and as it was destined, he opened his arms to welcome fate. He needed release but she was moving too fast, too intense, she was lost to this world. If he didn't climax soon he would explode, shatter into millions of tiny pieces. He would be scattered to the wind. Now was not the time to contemplate his demise. She was oblivious to her heritage, to her birthright, to her power, but soon, oh so soon, she would realize she was a child of the gods.

"Goddess." Arden screamed the word, feeling the power drain from him, as fast as his seed poured into her, an empty vessel, now filled with life. The Empress card triumphantly lay on the ground, smiling up at him pregnant with promise. 



Gypsy Candles



Huffing and puffing small clouds of steam out into the cold Chicago air, Melvin Jacobs waddled the distance between his job as a security guard at Loyola University and the train station where he would board a train for home.

It would be a short ride. Melvin only lived five blocks from the school. Four if he walked home from his post in the parking garage rather than walk in the opposite direction. Melvin Hardin, however, wasn't one to walk farther than the nearest train station, bus stop or standing cab. Weighing in at nearly three hundred pounds, walking was always more trouble than it was worth.

It wasn't the strain on Melvin's soft and heavy body that caused him to avoid walking whenever he could, although his physique certainly didn't encourage it. It was the looks he'd get between wherever he was and wherever he was going. Melvin couldn't stand the way people looked at him.

Being the fattest person on campus brought with it a terrible popularity not entirely unlike the fame he endured in high school. The difference was that in high school, he'd been a star football player. He was the anchor of the De La Salle defensive line. Almost no man alive got past him and the few that did paid a heavy price for the honor. He was everyone's friend (who'd want two hundred and seventy pounds of muscle as an enemy) and the girls, while not exactly fighting over him, were always available.

Now, he was a security guard at the same school where his football career ended. Double-teamed by a knee injury and a relaxed training schedule, Melvin ballooned up to three hundred pounds and rode out his academic scholarship on the sidelines. Having graduated with a degree in criminal justice and few skills save those his diploma suggested he possessed, Melvin became a security guard at the school. He was working the only job he was qualified for with the only people who would hire him. 

And since then, he had to deal with the look.

The look said "Why are you here?" It was pitying and accusing at the same time. In a single glance, usually accompanied by the person quickly looking away to avoid eye contact, people would ask him the question he asked himself every chance he got. What happened?

When he was still in college, shuffling back and forth between classes, he at least appeared to have a purpose. A reason for being there. As long as his scholarship held and he continued going to classes, he could fool himself into believing he was actually accomplishing something on that campus.

Now, with his life summed up in a stiff canvas badge that was sewn on his shirt, he could no longer afford himself the delusion of believing he was moving towards a goal. Having encapsulated his entire life into the five blocks between his claustrophobic little apartment and his worthless little job, he couldn't even delude himself he was moving towards anything at all. It was over. This was where he would spend the rest of his life. His only realistic hope was that he would die young, suffering a pointless life rather than a long and pointless one.

Melvin stared out the window on the subway, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. The dirty brick buildings outside rattled past as the train coughed its way through Chicago's north side. Melvin looked at the crumbling structures and realized that he would look at these same buildings every day for the rest of his life.

He spent the rest of the ride staring at his shoes.

With an uncharacteristically gentle stop, the train hissed into the station nearest Melvin's home. Melvin considered just riding the train to the end of the line and letting his mind run free. He'd contemplated his future more in the past twenty minutes than he had during his entire college career. He wondered what conclusions he might come to, what he might learn about himself if he were to just stay on the train and think on his situation.

His thoughts were interrupted by the realization that he was watching the train doors slide shut right in front of him. Standing on the train platform, he watched it pull away, leaving him behind in all-too familiar surroundings. He considered for one brief moment getting on the next one and thinking about what to do next. What really to do next. Surely he could do better than this? 

Oh well, there was always tomorrow's train ride.

Melvin was making his way along the dark, shadowy street where his apartment was when he heard a voice call out to him.

"You! Come here!" 

Turning around, Melvin saw a street vendor with her wares on a small wooded table underneath a picnic umbrella. She wore a greasy red scarf over her silver hair. Large, golden hoop earrings hung from her withered ears. Even from across the street, Melvin could see what must have been dozens of rings on her fingers.

Melvin looked to either side of him to see if there was anyone else she might have been calling out to. After all, she was all the way across the street. He knew though. He knew he was being called as surely as if she'd actually said his name.

The old woman looked up from her table and locked eyes with him. They were piercing, even at that distance. She held up a glittering hand and gestured for him to come to her. There was no kindness in her face, she didn't smile or take her eyes from his. It was less as if she wanted to sell him something and more that she wanted to impart some grim and disturbing information. She looked like a surgeon about to tell a family member that the patient wasn't going to make it.

Melvin made his way carefully across the street. Melvin's mother had instilled a fear of crossing the street in him at a young age, making it abundantly clear that if a car was coming at him, there would be little either he or the car would be able to do about getting their massive bulk out of the way in time.

Standing in front of the woman's table, Melvin could see she was selling candles. "Gypsy Candles" was written in black marker on a paper plate. Melvin reached out to examine one of them when the woman spoke to him in a harsh voice.

"That one is not for you boy."

"What."

"I see you walking towards your little house," the woman said in a child's mocking voice. "You are sad inside, unhappy. I know what you need. You need a gypsy candle. I will pick the one that is for you."

Melvin had half a mind to walk away. He didn't like her high-pitched, swaying voice. It had the quality of a teasing child's song. He was about to turn around right then and there when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

One of the candles was lit, it's flame still and steady despite the constant blasts of legendary Chicago wind that came whipping down the street every few seconds. The huge picnic umbrella over the table bent and skittered with every gust and the woman's colorful scarves and robes danced in the breeze as well. The candle's flame never even flickered.

"You see," the woman said. "My candles are special. They bring luck." 

Melvin was impressed, but he wasn't ready to dive off the deep end with this lady. The candles were special all right. Probably the best made in the history of the craft. He wasn't ready to believe that they were magical though. She had him pegged for the wrong kind of sucker if she was trying to sell him a "magical" candle.

"Real nice lady. I'll give you five bucks for one of the big ones." 

The shriveled little gypsy hissed and made as if she would spit on him.

"No," she barked. "I will pick the one you need."

She reached into a wax-stained cardboard box beneath the table and pulled out a blood-red candle that could have been no more than two inches high.

"Twenty dollars," she demanded as if she was offering him wealth beyond his wildest dreams and he should be grateful. 

"Twenty! For that thing," Melvin made a sound that was half-laughter, half-disgust and almost sprayed the woman with spittle before turning away to leave.

"Wait. Watch."

The woman's voice was icy and hard. Melvin found himself turning around, his desire to leave washed away in the sound of her voice.

The old woman picked up a burned match from the assorted debris on the table and placed the scorched charcoal tip between her thumb and forefinger. With a swift motion, she snapped her fingers and held the now lit match up for Melvin to marvel at.

"Neat trick lady. I still don't see how that makes these candles worth twenty bucks," Melvin said. Still, he was beginning to feel uneasy. The woman didn't seem to be performing for him. Her movements were deliberate and practiced. This seemed less like a magic trick and more like a ritual.

Ignoring Melvin altogether, the old woman touched the tip of the match to the candle's wick. It caught instantly and the flame crawled down the cloth wick towards the red wax of the candle. The old woman was staring intently at the candle. When a strange smile broke out across her face, Melvin leaned in closer to see what she was seeing that he wasn't.

Melvin's first thought was that the candle was burning faster than it should. Wax was pouring down the candle in every direction trying to escape the flame. In a few minutes, the candle would be nothing more than a puddle.

Then he heard a woman moan.

Instantly he looked up at the gypsy, but before he could wonder whether or not she'd made the sound, he heard it again.

It was coming form the candle.

Melvin looked closer at the candle. It had taken on a definite shape in the few moments it had been burning. It appeared to be a tiny sculpture of a man and a woman locked in embrace. Melvin watched in amazement as a rivulet of wax ran down the side and, as it did, the man's arm moved from the woman's waist to her arm, then to the back of her neck.

The entire image was moving. Her leg encircled his waist, he bent to kiss the side of her neck. Melvin could even make out the ripple of the man's throat as he kissed his mate and the woman's fingers clench the man's ribs in response.

"My God," Melvin said under his breath.

A low chuckle came from the gypsy as she blew out the candle and the image instantly disappeared. Now, it looked like little more than a misshapen glob of wax with a burnt little strip of fabric sticking out of it.

"You see now," the woman said.

Melvin only nodded.

"Twenty dollars is nothing for my magic eh," she said softly. "Nothing at all?" 

"How," Melvin began, having to clear his throat several times before continuing. "How does it...how do you make these?"

"Bah," the woman said, the sound a bubbling growl in her throat. "As if I would tell. As if you could understand. Is old family recipe," she said as if telling some wonderful joke. "It works. That is all you need to know."

"Okay, I'll buy it," Melvin said, removing his wallet. "But how do I get it to work."

The woman clapped her hands and smiled a wide, toothless grin as she took the money from Melvin. "It is strong magic. Just light candle in the same room with woman you want, and you will have her." 

"Wait, it does more than just...it's not just to look at?"

"Bah! Just to look at? What kind of magic is that? All magic does something."

"So this is a love potion or um, a love spell?" 

"Bah, potions and spells," the woman said, throwing up her hands as if she were tying to explain the mysteries of the universe to an embicile. "Is magic, that is all! Light the candle in the same room as a woman and you will have her. You don't need to know more."

Melvin suddenly looked up and down the street for anyone who might have overheard their conversation. At that moment, he saw a woman turn the corner. He'd seen her several times since he'd moved in, but he'd never even spoken to her. She was carrying several bags of groceries so it was impossible to make out any features save her eyes, but even at this distance, her eyes were intense.

"Any woman," Melvin asked.

"Yes," the woman hissed, pressing the candle into his palm.

Melvin looked down at the candle, about to demand a fresh one, but the wick was white and clean, as if it had never been lit and the wax had taken on the shape of a man and a woman again.

"How?"

"It magic! Now go!"

Throwing a battered twenty at the old gypsy, Melvin quickly crossed the street, ignoring how his belly jiggled up and down over his belt. He put the candle in his pocket and noticed it was warm. He wasn't entirely certain how to feel about that, so he decided to ignore it. Like the gypsy said, what did he know about magic?

"Can I help you?"

The woman peeked over her packages at Melvin and after considering him for a moment, smiled and handed him the largest of her bags.

"Thank you," she said in heavily accented English. "I'm Nadia."

"I'm Melvin," he said as he turned towards the apartment building. "I'd shake your hand, but it appears to be full."

"Aha," she laughed. "Just a little. I promise to shake your hand once we get these inside."

"It's a deal." 

Inside, Melvin waited with double armfuls of groceries while Nadia fished for her keys. Once she'd opened the door, she invited him inside.

"Could you put those over there," Nadia asked as she hung her jacket on a wooden peg near the door.

"No problem," Melvin huffed as he set the groceries down on the kitchen countertop. When he turned around, Nadia was standing there with her hand extended.

She was breathtaking and Melvin had to thrust his own hand out to avoid staring at her too long. Her eyes were a dark gray, the exotic color of smoke. Her skin had a hushed olive tone to it and looked like polished mahogany in the weak light of her apartment's single lamp. She wore plain jeans and a pink sweater that not only set off the color of her skin, but hugged her body in every conceivable way.

"I promised you a handshake Melvin," she said wrapping his thick fingers in her own soft and slender grip. "I always keep my promises." 

"Well Nadia," said Melvin wiping some sweat off his lip. "You need anything else, I'm at the end of the hall." 

"Oh, so that's you I hear?"

"Um," Melvin said taken aback. He'd been so expectant to hear 'All right, goodbye' that he actually didn't understand what Nadia had said. 

"I'm sorry?"

"Your music," Nadia said with a smile. "I hear you playing jazz records at night."

"Oh," Melvin said. Still regaining balance from this sudden change in conversation. "Yeah, they help me sleep."

"Me too," Nadia said. "When we first came to this country, my father bought jazz records. He loved the jazz."

"Where did you come from?" 

"Romania. I am a gypsy."

"Really," Melvin said. "Do you know the old woman?"

"Mama Tadescu? Yes, she was a friend of my parents when we came to this country. She made sure I knew the old ways. She would tell me stories."

Melvin wanted to ask how old the woman was, but he didn't want to seem rude.

"What kind of stories?"

"Stories from the old country. Fairy tales and ghost stories. She told me her mother was a witch and one day she would show me how to do magic like in the old country. Foolishness like that. Things to frighten and amaze a small child." 

"Yeah," Melvin said as a cold chill traced a streak down his back. "Foolishness."

"So," Melvin said, quickly changing the subject. "You like jazz huh?"

"Very much so," Nadia said. "But I was young when papa died and mother sold his records. Mother hated jazz. I think it reminded her of him. I was never allowed to listen to it until after she died. By then, it had been so long, I couldn't remember any of the songs."

"Well," Melvin said, venturing far into territory that had been unfamiliar ever since he left high school. "If you want, you can stop by and listen."

"Can we listen now?"

Melvin actually took a step back as his mind staggered under the force of her request. He'd been unprepared earlier, but this was shocking. Their meeting had gone beyond going well. This was amazing. For the first time since he pocketed it, Melvin could feel the heat of the candle against his thigh.

"Uh, yea. Just let me tidy up a little. I'm not exactly prepared for company."

"Oh yes. You're still wearing your clothes for work," Nadia said, looking him up and down. Her face didn't wrinkle up when she saw his size and she didn't seem to care that he was a security guard. He could have kissed her for that.

The he realized he was probably only a few records away from doing just that. 

"I'll tell you what," Nadia said. "I was about to cook some dinner. I'll get it started and we can eat and listen to music at your apartment."

"All right," Melvin said as calmly as he could. His hands were clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, but since neither he nor Nadia looked down, neither noticed.

*** *** ***

Melvin couldn't remember the time spent cleaning his apartment but when Nadia came knocking on the door but it was spotless nonetheless. Right before he opened the door for her, he set the gypsy's candle on the coffee table next to the couch. He hoped she would see it, perhaps rekindling their earlier conversation. Nadia never even glimpsed it, however, offering him a steaming pot of food as soon as she came through the door.

"Here it is," she said with a smile. "I hope you like beef stew."

"Sure do," Melvin said taking it from her. Actually, he hated beef stew, but he wasn't about to say so. Besides, his appearance suggested that he disliked few things that were edible. There were probably worse insults to a person's cooking than having a three hundred pound man turn his nose up at it, but Melvin couldn't think of any.

He took a large pot from her and set it on his stove. After spooning out two bowls of stew, he took them into the living room where Nadia was flipping through his CD's.

"There's so many," Nadia said as she set the bowl on her knees and continued to flip through his music collection.

Nadia had changed into a peach colored sundress with white sandals. Melvin forgot how hot the apartments got when the superintendent turned the heat on and he was already heating up in slacks and a button-down shirt.

Melvin selected a CD at random and popped it in. The two ate in silence while the music played. Nadia entranced by the melodies and Melvin entranced by her. Nadia closed her eyes and seemed to feel each note. Melvin just watched her breathe, her chest rising and falling beneath the thin dress with each breath. 

Melvin put the dishes away and when he returned, Nadia was hypnotized by the music. One of her hands was in her lap and the other was between the cushions on the couch. Her thighs were slightly apart. He could see the shadowy crease of her cleavage through the top of her loose sundress.

Melvin looked over at the coffee table next to Nadia and he saw the candle sitting on a small brass stand. He could vaguely remember putting it there earlier. Even though it was small and well over six feet away from him, he could clearly make out the male and female figures embracing.

Then, it lit itself.

Melvin watched, unable to move, as the white wick slowly turned black. It curled up, and then a tiny orange flame spurted from its tip. An instant later, the candle was lit.

"Oooh,"

Melvin looked down and saw Nadia lying on his couch. She had pulled her sundress off one shoulder and she was clenching and unclenching her fist, balling the dress up near her hips. Melvin could just make out the smooth white curve of underwear between her legs.

Melvin watched as Nadia slid her hand between her legs and began to rub herself. She pulled air in between her teeth in a slow hiss as she dug a furrow in the white cotton of her panties. Her thighs parted farther and she lifted her knees slightly.

"Mmmm, Melvin," she said. Her accent even thicker with lust. Melvin gently sat next to her, afraid to touch her for fear of breaking whatever spell she was under. As soon as the couch accepted his weight, Nadia snaked her free hand out and squeezed him between his own legs.




Gypsy Candles



The touch was firm and demanding and Melvin found himself responding faster than he ever had in his life. In an instant, he was shifting his position on the couch to provide room for his growing excitement. Nadia's hands were deft and soon he could feel the soft caress of her skin against his own as she pulled his pants down to his knees.

Nadia had her sundress pulled up to expose her taut belly. Melvin could barely keep his eyes on all of her at once. She was sliding out of her underwear with one hand as she used the other to stroke her breasts and stomach. In an instant, she was astride him. Melvin gripped her waist, gasping as her soft warmth enveloped him.

Nadia's hips slowly rose and fell against his own. She gripped him with her knees as her movements slowly increased in speed. She clutched his shirt in both fists at the shoulders. Wetness flowed from her, spreading over Melvin's hips as he began to push himself into her with increased fervor.

Melvin could barely speak, barely breathe as Nadia twisted and clenched on top of him. Each movement she made sent pleasure zigzagging through his body. Each moment, he thought it couldn't get any better or last any longer and each moment, he was wrong.

Finally a shudder coursed through Nadia's body and she became impossibly tight, gripping him to the point where a tear squeezed itself from between his tightly clenched eyelids. She began to emit a low moan that escalated into a wail while Melvin himself was caught between a whisper and a scream. Her hips surged faster against him. She lost her grip on his shoulders and leaned back, one hand sliding between the cushions on the couch while the other cupped his sweaty cheek.

Melvin could hold back no longer. He felt the explosion raging inside him, straining his body to escape. In a few moments, he would be finished. He closed his eyes just as Nadia threw both hands around his neck and ground her hips into him with hard, greedy thrusts. He could just make out the flash of metal in her hand before the power of his orgasm caused him to close his eyes.

His release was beautiful and complete. He didn't even feel his body at the end. He just felt himself emptying out. The pleasure was so fulfilling, that he just let himself keep floating until he wasn't there at all.

*** *** ***

Nadia continued to hold the man's head in her hands long after he stopped breathing. His heart struggled for a moment, defiantly gurgling out a final ragged tempo, then it too was still. 

Lifting herself from him, Nadia surveyed her handiwork. The dagger was little more than a steel needle, easily concealed between the cushions of the couch and sliding just as easily into the base of his spine. There was almost no blood. Just a little inside his left eye, which swiftly went from white to crimson.

Nadia could sense that he welcomed the end when it came. He was like so many others, embracing the darkness when it came for him. There was no fight in him. Nothing in this world that loved him enough to make him want to stay.

No great loss. Looking around the apartment, she could see that his life was over long ago. When she crossed his path, he was waiting to die.

"Oh well."

Nadia stripped and went into his bathroom to wash. Once she'd finished, she refilled the bathtub with scalding hot water. While the bathtub filled, she went into the kitchen of her own apartment and came back with a huge bone-handled butcher's knife.

She had a lot of work ahead of her.

*** *** ***

"Mama, I'm back."

Mariana Tadescu opened the door for her granddaughter and directed her towards the kitchen. Nadia Tadescu set her load, a heavy black garbage bag, down by the counter.

"Ah, yes dear. You've done well," the older gypsy said as she opened one of the bags and inspected the contents. "Is that all of it?"

"Yes," Nadia said, using her sleeve to wipe sweat out of her eyes, careful not to touch her face with her hands. "I threw away what we couldn't use."

"Good girl. You're learning well," Mariana said as she went back to the stove to stir her pot before it thickened and burned.

"Mama?"

"Yes dear?" 

"Can you show me how to do it?"

Mariana turned around and studied her granddaughter for a moment. The red splotches on her sleeves and pants. The sweat running down her neck. "Yes," the old woman thought. "She is ready." 

"Get a pot from beneath the sink."

Nadia quickly fetched the pot.

"Now," Mariana instructed. "Fill it with a little water—just so that the bottom is covered, and then get some fat." 

"How much?"

"Two handfuls should do it."

Nadia set her pot on the stove and reached into the nearest garbage bag and pulled out two dripping handfuls of Melvin's body fat. She looked expectantly at her grandmother, waiting for her next instruction.

"This," said Mariana Tadescu. "Is how you make a gypsy candle..."



Gypsy Cure



Little Red Pill 

The condo was just what Spence was looking for. It was nice and spacious and had all the amenities you could want. The building was nice and exclusive and you had to be approved by the homeowner's association to buy there. Luckily, Frank, who was showing him the condo, was not only the building manager, but also the head of the association. 

"So, do you like what you see?" Frank asked. 

"I really do." Spence responded. 

"Great! Why don't we go next door to my place and talk about specifics." Frank invited. 

"That would be great." Spence answered. 

It was only a short walk down the hall to Frank's condo. His place was tastefully furnished in an ultra-modern motif. It gave the impression of being Spartan and very masculine. That seemed to fit with Frank's personality. He was a big man; over six feet tall and probably two hundred pounds. He seemed to be very fit for a guy who was probably at least sixty and with the exception of a slight beer belly, most of his weight was muscle rather than fat. Unbeknownst to Spence, Frank was also a very dominant gay man. He was a man who was happiest when he had a boy to serve him. He did not have a boy currently and he found Spence to be very attractive material. He liked his boys short and slight and Spence fit the bill nicely. 

"How about something to drink?" Frank offered. 

"Sure." 

"I have coffee or tea or soft drinks. But, shit, it's already after five; how about something with a little more kick to it?" Frank asked amiably. 

"That sounds good." Spence answered. 

"Name your poison." Frank smiled. "I have a fully stocked bar." 

"How about a scotch on the rocks? Single malt if you have." 

"Comin' right up!" Frank smiled. 

Frank poured drinks for them and led Spence to the couch in the living room. Frank smiled at Spence as they sat down on opposite ends of the long couch. He intended to question and probe until he could find the key to getting Spence into his bed and ultimately getting him to totally surrender to him. 

"So, I need to put on my homeowner's association hat." Frank started. "Tell me about you." 

"Well, I'm retired; sixty-one years old." Spence started. 

"You could have fooled me." Frank interrupted. "You could pass for much younger than that." 

"Thanks." 

"Do you have family that will be moving in with you?" Frank asked. 

"No. It's just me." Spence answered. 

"It says on your application that you're married." Frank stated. 

"Yes, I am. But it's a complicated situation." Spence responded. 

"How so?" 

"My wife and I have grown apart over the years and I finally decided that it was time for me to live alone. The situation has just become unbearable. So I'm moving out of the house; hopefully to this condo. We're only staying married for financial reasons." 

"Sorry to hear that." Frank sympathized. "Does that mean I should expect wild sex orgies next door?" 

"No." Spence laughed. "I'm quiet and fairly conservative and these days it takes a little blue pill to even get it up." 

"My wife had the same problem." Frank laughed. 

"I didn't realize that you were married." Spence responded. 

"Well, no longer married. My wife, Robert, and I were together for over fifteen years. But he was killed in an auto accident about a year ago." 

"I'm so sorry." Spence replied. 

"Thanks." Frank answered. "Anyway, we were talking about your 'problem.' Robert had the same problem. As he got older he had trouble getting it up and finally his dick just went limp on me. That's when I had to give him the cure." 

"The cure?" 

"Yeah. It's an old gypsy thing." Frank said with a twinkle in his eye. 

"You're a gypsy?" Spence asked incredulously. 

"No, no." Frank chuckled. "But my mom came from a long line of gypsies. And my grandma used to dabble in the occult arts. She was a real wildcat. I think she was still fucking when she was in her eighties. My granddad's dick went limp when he hit his sixties, but grandma wasn't having any of that. She concocted her own potion and put it in pill form. She would feed grandpa the pills and he would get stiff as a board. Then grandma would fuck his brains out. And the great thing about grandma's little red pill was that you didn't have to take it forever; after about a month or less, your 'problem' was cured." 

"That's quite a story." Spence said. "You could make a fortune if you actually had a pill like that." 

"But I do." Frank responded. "Grandma passed the formula on to me. When Robert's dick stopped working, I made the pills and fed them to him. After taking them for about a week straight, his ED was totally cured and we fucked and sucked like we were kids again." 

"You should bottle them and sell them." Spence said. "You could compete with Viagra and make a fortune." 

"Nah, let the folks buy their Viagra and shit. I'll keep my pills for my special friends. You could be my special friend." Frank smiled invitingly and moved closer to Spence on the couch. "I'd be happy to give you one of my special pills." Frank said as he placed his hand on Spence's knee. 

"Sorry, but I'm not gay. . .or bi." Spence said as he squirmed out from under Frank's hand. 

"Gay. Bi. They're just labels that we use to try and describe the spectrum of sexual behavior. My Robert was straight when I met him. But it didn't take me long to turn him into my 'Bobbi.' By the end of our 'courtship' I had him nursing on my cock and begging to be fucked like the little slut I had turned him into." 

"Look, I appreciate the offer," Spence said, "but I think I'd better leave now." 

"Don't you want the condo?" Frank asked. 

"Yes, of course, I do. But I'm getting a little uncomfortable with where this conversation is headed." 

"Sorry." Frank smiled. "But you can't fault a guy for trying, can you? You are a really sexy guy and you got my cock twitching and my juices flowing." 

"No, of course not." Spence smiled back. 

"Great! Let me refill our drinks and we'll get down to brass tacks and paperwork." Frank swooped up their glasses and walked to the bar and poured them new drinks. 

Frank liked this boy. He liked his looks and his demeanor. He felt that Spence would make a wonderful slave wife. After Frank poured the drinks, he reached into a drawer in the bar and took out a little container full of grandma's pills. The pills worked exactly the way Frank had described to Spence. Of course, Frank hadn't described the side effects; how the pills weakened your will and gave you the desire to submit. Frank smiled to himself. The boy didn't stand a chance. 

Frank walked back to the couch and handed Spence his drink and sat down next to him. He pulled a small metal pill box from his pocket and, opening it, he removed a little red pill and placed it on the cocktail table in front of Spence. 

"Just to show there's no hard feelings, I want you to have one of my special pills. This way, when you get home tonight, you'll get a nice hard-on and you can feel good." 

"I really shouldn't." Spence said warily. 

"Nonsense! The effects will last for days. You'll have the best sex you've had in years; even if all you do is jerk off!" 

"Well. . .okay, thanks. I'll take it home with me." Spence said reaching for the pill. 

"You really should take it now." Frank urged. "Some people have an allergic reaction to it. If you do, I can help you through it." 

"I don't know." Spence hesitated. 

"Go on. Take it. It can't hurt you. It will only make you feel better than you've ever felt in your life." 

Spence brought the pill to his lips. He hesitated, then popped it into his mouth and swallowed, washing it down with scotch. 

"How soon will it take effect?" Spence asked. 

"It acts pretty quick." Frank smiled. 

"I . . .I'm feeling a little woozy, a little weak." Spence said. 

"That's one of the side effects." Frank said. "It weakens your muscles a bit and makes you feel a bit lethargic, more pliable. But it also heightens your response to sexual stimuli. Here, let me show you." 

Spence sat there helplessly as Frank unbuttoned Spence's shirt, exposing his bare chest. 

"How does this feel, baby?" Frank said as he rubbed his hand across Spence's chest and pinched his nipple. It was as if an electric shock coursed through Spence's body directly from his nipple to his cock. His cock began to grow harder and harder as Frank rubbed his nipple between forefinger and thumb. It was almost as if, Frank was inflating his cock through the nipple. 

"Ohhhhh, please!" Spence moaned as his stiff cock tented his pants. He tried to get up from the couch before this went any further, but his muscles would not respond to his mental commands. 

"Going someplace, honey?" Frank laughed. "You're not going anyplace till I'm finished with you." Frank said as he placed his hand on Spence's throbbing prick and squeezed. 

"Ohhhh, Yesss!" Spence moaned and arched his back to increase the contact of his cock with Frank's hand. 

"That's it. Moan like the little bitch you are." Frank hissed as he unzipped Spence's pants. 

He quickly removed Spence's shoes and socks and stripped him of his pants and briefs. Spence's cock stood hard and throbbing and pointing at the ceiling. 

"Oh, please! Yes, please!" Spence begged as Frank wrapped his hand around his hard rod and slowly jerked him off. 

"That's it, baby. Beg Frank for it. Beg like the little slut you're becoming. " Frank urged as he pulled Spence's foreskin down, exposing the slick, sensitive head of Spence's cock. 

Spence had never been this hard in his life. His heart was pounding madly in his chest as he felt himself losing control. His hips began to shake and buck as Frank pulled his spunk higher and higher towards his cock head. Then Spence cried out, a huge, animal cry of pleasure as the sperm erupted from his cock in long ropes that hit the cocktail table, the couch, Spence's chest and legs. He came and came and came again as Frank expertly milked the juice out his hard, throbbing penis. 

Then it was over. The orgasm subsided. Spence felt spent and used. Frank was still working Spence's cock; slowly, now, with gentle squeezing and stroking. Spence's cock usually went flaccid right after ejaculation, but it was still hard and stiff as a board. Spence was afraid. Something was going on here; something more than just the response of his body to Frank's touch. It was almost as if Frank was assaulting his mental and emotional defenses and making him pliant and helpless. He couldn't surrender to Frank. He must resist and get away! 

"Be my baby." Frank whispered in his ear. "Surrender to Frank and be my little bitch." 

Then Frank's lips covered his. Spence clenched his teeth tightly closed as Frank's tongue licked his lips and teeth seeking entry to his mouth. Spence stubbornly denied him entry. But Frank moved his hand from Spence's throbbing cock to Spence's chest. Spence gasped and his lips and teeth parted as Frank roughly squeezed his nipple. The minute Spence's mouth opened, Frank plunged his tongue inside. New waves of pleasure coursed through Spence's body as Frank's tongue massaged his tongue. Spence opened his mouth wider and Frank plunged his tongue as far as he could into Spence's mouth. Now their tongues were lapping together wildly, saliva dripping down the sides of Spence's mouth. Frank's hand was back on Spence's stiff, pulsing cock. Frank began jacking him wildly as Spence moaned and hungrily licked at Frank's tongue. Then the spasms coursed through Spence's body again. He was cumming and cumming and cumming! Sperm ejaculated wildly onto his torso and the couch and the floor. Spence cried out in ecstasy as Frank's mouth released him. His body was shaking as the orgasm subsided. He clung to Frank for a few moments, until Frank released him. Frank looked down at his new boy and smiled triumphantly. 

"Now I'm going to make you my little pussy-boy." Frank said. He stood up and then swept Spence into his arms and carried him into the bedroom. 

Surrender 

The bedcovers were already drawn back. Frank dropped his naked prey onto the bed and quickly shed his own clothes. Spence's eyes grew wide as he looked at Frank's large, erect cock. It was much bigger than his own, maybe nine inches long and thick with a large mushroom head. It throbbed and pulsed as Frank crawled onto the bed next to Spence. 

"How are you feeling, baby?" Frank cooed as he wrapped his hand around Spence's still-hard cock. 

"Please, no more." Spence pleaded weakly. 

"Don't you like the way I make you feel, honey?" Frank asked as he alternately stroked Spence's cock and fondled his balls. 

"I'm afraid." Spence whimpered as Frank ran his thumb over Spence's moist cock-head. 

"What are you afraid of, honey?" 

"Afraid. . .afraid of what's. . . what's hap. . . happening to me." Spence moaned with pleasure as Frank squeezed and pulled on his throbbing rod. 

"You're surrendering yourself to me, baby." Frank whispered. "You're becoming my pussy-boy. You want to be my pussy-boy, don't you?" Frank urged. 

"I. . .I don't. . .I don't know." Spence moaned as Frank stroked and petted his cock. 

"Of course you do." Frank said. "Say it. Say you want to be my pussy-boy." 

"Oh please, yes, please. I want to be your pussy-boy." Spence begged. 

"That's a good boy." Frank affirmed. "You should call me 'Daddy' from now on; don't you think? Don't you want to be a good pussy-boy and call me Daddy?" Frank urged as he moved his hand down to Spence's ass and began to knead and caress his little ass-cheeks. 

"Yes. Yes. Yes, Daddy." Spence groaned as Frank slipped his fuck-finger into his new boy's ass. Spence squirmed as the finger slowly penetrated him. 

"You want to be Daddy's pussy-boy, don't you, baby?" Frank cajoled as he slowly finger fucked his boy. 

"Yes, Daddy, Yes." Spence moaned. 

"Tell Daddy, honey." Frank urged. 

"I want to be your pussy-boy, Daddy. Please make me your pussy-boy. Ohhh." Spence moaned as Daddy's finger pleasured his asshole. 

Frank withdrew his finger and leaned over to the nightstand to grab a jar of lube. He put a generous gob of lube on his fuck finger and reinserted it into Spence's ass. 

"Daddy will make you his pussy-boy, baby. Daddy will fuck your tight little ass and transform it into a tight little pussy. Right boy?" 

"Ohhhh, yes, Daddy. Anything you want." 

"Yes, bitch." Frank chuckled. "You will do anything Daddy wants." 

Frank removed his finger from Spence's lubed ass and dipped back into the jar of lube. He coated his thick, throbbing cock with gobs of lube and then threw Spence's legs over his shoulders. He positioned his mushroom head at Spence's rosebud and gently pushed in. 

"Oh no! Please! It's too big!" Spence begged as Frank took his cherry. 

"Your pussy can take it, bitch!" Frank said as he slid his throbbing rod further into his boy's pliant ass. 

"Please, Daddy, it hurts!" Spence whined. 

"Take more, bitch." 

"Oh, god." Spence groaned. 

"Take more, bitch." Frank urged as he slid the rest of his cock into the boy. "Now Daddy will plow your field and plant his seed in you. Then you will be mine!" 

Frank withdrew almost all of his cock and then slowly slid it back in. Spence could feel it pulse with life as it slid in and out of his tight ass. He began to get used to the big snake sliding in and out of him. The pain began to dissipate. He began to feel something else. Was it pleasure? No! It couldn't be! This man was fucking him. He couldn't like being fucked like some dumb little girl! But he did! He liked it. No. He loved it! He wanted it! His own cock had never lost its hardness. Now he could feel his tool responding to Daddy's fucking. He was losing control again. His mind was going blank and all awareness was transferred to his cock and his ass. 

"Please, please, please, Daddy." Spence began to beg. 

"Please what? bitch?" 

"Please fuck me, Daddy. Please fuck me!" Spence breathlessly begged as he squirmed under Frank's huge body. 

"Yes, baby. That's it, baby. Now take Daddy's spunk, baby!" Frank cried out as the spasms began to shake him. 

Spence could feel Frank's cock tense up and then it was spewing its seed into him. Over and over, Frank came, filling Spence's ass with his semen. Spence lost all control of his body and mind. He was senseless with pleasure now. His orgasm shook him violently as he came yet again, his spunk squirting onto his own face and chest. Mewling and gurgling sounds came out of his throat as Frank's cum began to drip out of his ass onto the bed. Spence threw his arms around Frank's neck and held on tightly for dear life as the two rocked back and forth in the throes of passion. Spence wrapped his legs tightly around Daddy's hips as his body shook with the violence of his orgasm. Frank plunged his tongue into Spence's mouth and hungrily lapped at Spence's as another orgasm coursed through his body, depositing another load of hot sperm into his new boy's pussy. Slowly, their spasms subsided and Frank relaxed onto his boy's body. 

"Who do you belong to, baby?" Frank demanded. 

"I belong to you, Daddy." Spence moaned. 

"And what are you now, baby?" 

"I'm your pussy-boy, Daddy." 

"Good boy!" 

Frank slowly withdrew his cock from his new pussy and rolled off of Spence. He lay on his side and perused his new boy's body. Spence was still shaking a little, but he was beginning to calm down a bit. He lay on his back with his eyes shut tight. His cock was still rigid and pointing at the ceiling. Frank knew from prior experience that the little red pill would keep Spence hard for three or four hours. Even though Frank was no longer on the pill regularly, he still stayed hard himself for two hours on average. And his stamina allowed him to go at it again after a short recovery time. It was one of the pleasant after effects of regular usage of the pill. But now, his plan was to keep his new boy existing solely on a plane of pleasure for as long as necessary. Frank intended to keep him on the pill continuously for at least a week. A week of pleasure and the pill would work on the boy's mind and will until the boy surrendered totally to his new Daddy. Frank was going to literally fuck his brains out and destroy his will to resist. 

Frank smiled at the thought and then flipped the boy onto his side like a lifeless little rag doll. Frank snuggled up and spooned him. Lifting the boy's leg slightly, Frank slid his still hard cock into the boy's man-pussy. The boy moaned as Frank entered him. Frank wrapped his hand around the boy's cock and the boy began to fuck Frank's meaty hand. 

Spence was lost in unknowable pleasure. His cock was rubbing against Frank's hand and he could feel Frank's cock moving in and out of his new pussy as he fucked the hand. Animal sounds issued from his throat. Spence thought that cumming again was impossible, but nevertheless he came. He came gently this time, his seed spilling onto the bed and Frank's hand. When Spence had shot his load, Frank placed his cum-soaked hand over Spence's mouth. Spence slurped up his own cum as he felt Frank spasm and deposit another load of spunk into his male-pussy. Spence fell asleep with Frank's cock imbedded inside of him. 

Coda 

Spence sat on the floor between Daddy's legs, his head resting on Daddy's naked thigh. He had lost track of time and had no idea how long he had been living here with Daddy. He only knew that Frank was his Daddy and his Daddy took care of him. He was Daddy's pussy-boy and he had been fucked frequently the entire time he had been here. He was living on almost a purely sensual level. He craved Daddy's tongue in his mouth. He loved when Daddy licked and bit his nipples and sucked on his little titties. He became ecstatic when Daddy sucked the juice out of his hard little clit. And he lost all control when Daddy plunged his cock into his male pussy and fucked him till he was incoherent with pleasure. 




Gypsy Cure



Frank ran his fingers lovingly through his boy's hair. It had been a successful ten days of seduction and enslavement. The little red Gypsy pill had done its job and rendered Spence utterly helpless to resist Frank. Frank had fed the boy a pill every day for the first week. By the end of that week Spence was totally in Frank's power. Now Frank was the one who took the pills; twice a week. The drug entered Frank's blood stream and was transmitted into Spence's body through Frank's sperm. It bonded Spence to Frank. Spence needed his Daddy and his Daddy's love juice. 

Spence could feel Daddy's cock growing against his cheek. He could smell the pungent odor of its pre-cum. Like Pavlov's dog, Spence began to salivate. It was feeding time. He was filled with lust and need for Frank's cock. Spence petted the hardening cock with his hand and then licked it from balls to head. He sucked the head into his mouth and worshipped it with his tongue. 

"Good boy." Frank moaned as the boy began to hungrily nurse on the now throbbing organ. 

Spence felt his own cock grow and harden. He began to play with himself as he hungrily sucked on Daddy's cock. It wasn't long before the boy was rewarded with Daddy's cum spewing into his mouth. He sucked it all down contentedly as he closed his eyes and came all over his legs and the floor.



Gypsy Dancer



Another Saturday morning waking up alone. A cool breeze blew the curtains at the windows edge, rattling the Venetian blinds. It would be another scorching August day. Angela stretched, and as she adjusted her eyes to the sunlight just beginning to shine through her window, she heard the drums, a rhythmic thunder in the distance pulsing against her awakening. She recalled that there would be a music and art festival in the park a block today, lasting long into the night. 

It was just a year ago when her ex boyfriend and she had a huge argument at the festival. Angela loves to dance and had been intoxicated by the Latin rhythm of the salsa band. But Thomas did not like to dance and preferred to simply drink beer than dancing with her. Angela began to dance alone and found herself in the middle of the crowd near the bandstand. She became lost in the sound of the music, several glasses of wine, and the warm evening. Angela was having the time of her life until Thomas found her and let her know he was pissed. They left the festival soon afterward and it became the event that led to their breaking up several weeks later.

Angela felt the familiar warming sensation between her legs as she recalled the dancing. "Damn", she thought to herself, "I really need to get laid" Moving her left hand to her breast and her right hand to her pubic area she began to play with herself. Closing her eyes she circled three fingers gently in circles over her clitoris. In her mind she returned to thoughts of the festival a year ago. The vision came to her to dress like a gypsy. She would wear the loose fitting white cotton dress, naked underneath. A leather and bead anklet around her ankle, some jingly jewelry around her neck and long sparkling ear rings. She would be barefoot and wear a musky scent with a hint of wood smoke. The sounds of the band practicing in the park nearby increased in volume and the other members of the Salsa band began to play with enthusiasm. Angela moved her hips and pelvis sensually in rhythm with the music and her fingers. 

She moved in her fantasy to the grass near the bandstand. The earth felt cool to her feet. It was a young crowd packed into a small area. There was little room to move so most were standing in place and swaying and moving their bodies to the frenetic salsa beat. She could feel the heat of their bodies and the smell of perspiration rising with the dust. The group became a single moving mass with the music. She lost herself to the music. Angela was stunningly beautiful in the white gypsy dress and jewelry. Her dark tanned body and flowing long black hair drew some single men to her like a magnet. She did not want to choose a partner. She was enjoying the freedom to be herself with the music and moment. She became aware of the hands brushing her buttocks, and brief touches disguised as accidental incursions of her space. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. She knew she was sexy and was enjoying the touching and attention she was receiving. 

Spirit Lover moved invisibly through the crowd and stood behind Angela. "You are here" Angela thought as she felt his hands on her hips and gentle kiss near her ear. He moved against her and joined her in her rhythmic movements to the music, which was increasing in volume and pace as the musicians rode the waves of energy rising from the crowd. She felt his hardening cock against her buttocks as they swayed together. She reached for him behind her back and found that he was naked. The thought of him totally naked against her in the middle of a dancing crowd was exciting and she grasped his now rigid penis and stroked it as she continued moving her buttocks against him. She felt his hands move to the hem of her dress and slowly begin pulling it upward to her thighs. His hand moved to her ass and found the crack near her anus. 

He moved downward and as he probed between her legs she crouched slightly and opened to his fingers probing her moistness. Spirit Lover cupped her pubic area and inserted a finger gently into her vagina. He gently fucked her as they moved and she felt her excitement building with the music. Sensing her readiness he lowered himself as she released his penis from her hand and placed it between her legs. She grasped it between her upper thighs and the shaft pressed against her open labia, rubbing against her clitoris as they moved their hips in unison, keeping time to the erotic drumbeat that filled them with abandon. She sensed the men near her watching her erotic dance, small whimpers escaping her lips in excitement. The man in front of her pressed back against her, his back rubbing against her erect nipples pushing rigidly against the sweat soaked fabric of her dress.

Angela could stand it no longer. She grasped Spirit Lover's cock and placed it at her throbbing entrance. She pushed against him as he raised his hips in unison and slowly entered her. Deeply he pushed his cock into her until they were as one. Holding her tightly, his hands massaging her breasts, they swayed to the music. She grasped his cock with her vaginal muscles in time to the music as they danced with their eyes closed, oblivious to everything but the primitive music reverberating in their bodies and the fullness of him deep inside her. The band began to play with an energy mirroring their build to climax. She squeezed harder and heard Spirit Lover whimper as she massaged his cock in her warm embrace. 

The music was building to a peak as she began to come to the edge. Sprit Lover began stroking in and out with deep strokes, pushing his cock into her with hard abandon, piston like strokes that forced her to her toes with each thrust. She felt him tense and hold his breath and she let go also. Her body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy moved in crescendo to the music. He shot his hot cum deep into her and held her tightly, biting at the nape of her neck through her hair as he came with her. She felt his cum running down her thighs, as he stayed hard inside her, continuing to sway together in the love embrace as the music wound slowly to an end. They held each other as the crowd clapped and urged the band to continue. Angela gradually awoke from her revelry and felt the wet sheets beneath her. Yes, she would be a gypsy dancer tonight.