2 comments/ 19703 views/ 13 favorites The Devil May Care By: CalLorenson Do you have any family heirlooms on the mantelpiece? They are old reminders of relatives past, but they are also relics of past lives — very human lives. Elizabeth finds that her jewel box, handed down to her from many generations ago, contains a memento that changes her life — and others. Thanks to RexBrookdale for help with the editing. * I dropped it.... Okay? It was just an accident. Really. Look up 'klutz' in the dictionary, and you will find my name: Elizabeth. Little did I know, that being a fumble fingers would start the whole thing.... ****** I dropped my antique jewel box. Well, not that I have much jewel-type jewelry, but the box had been my many-greats grandmother's, and I had had it for years. My grandmother Louet had given it to me when I was about three. I didn't remember that part, but my mother had told me, some years later, that she had done so not long before she died. As her only living granddaughter, she had wanted to be sure I got it. She told my mother its story, to tell me later when I could appreciate it. It wasn't that great, as stories go. The jewel box was an heirloom which had come down from my something-great grandmother, Prudence, who had been one of many people accused of being a witch in Salem, Massachusetts. Yes, that Salem. Fortunately for her, she had never been brought to trial. Many poor girls -- and even a few guys -- had been executed for witchcraft: a capital felony in those days. Even after the witch trials ended the stain had stuck, and Prudence lived the rest of her life under a cloud of suspicion. Her family had married her off to an older widower who had managed to have a daughter with her before he died — my something-minus-one great grandmother. The box wasn't big; I'd accidentally lost it for like a whole month under a sheet of paper. Inside, it was only a couple of inches deep. The wood had dried out and cracked in places. The hinges were still in pretty good shape, though blackened and green with age; must have been brass or something. A well-meaning ancestor had put a coat of pink paint on it, but most of that had worn away, leaving just wood with a few pinkish spots in the deeper parts of the grain, and in the ding on one side. I kept my jewels in it. Of course my 'jewels' were only trinkets and keepsakes: my baby bracelet, my class ring from high school, that kind of thing. There was exactly one semiprecious stone among them all — a specially polished star sapphire ring, a gift from my 'forever and ever' boyfriend from high school. The same boyfriend who had enthusiastically pursued my friend Melanie once her boobs got as big as mine. Still the box was a family heirloom, and I knew I needed to treasure it and keep it safe. That's why I was devastated when I dropped it: I'd picked it up to move it, but the edge caught the corner of a book lying alongside it, and before I knew what had happened, there it lay on the floor. The lid popped right off, but that wasn't any big surprise. The hinge screws had pulled out long before I'd gotten it, and I'd only taped them in place so I wouldn't lose them. I picked up both box and lid and fitted them back together as before; only this time I noticed there was a crack along the bottom of the box. Oh nuts. What had I done now? I examined the crack ... the crevice was actually part of a thin, straight seam that ran along the base about a quarter inch from the outside edge. Since curiosity hadn't killed this cat — yet, I probed a little with my fingernail. The gap widened. The seam extended all the way around the box. A little more probing, and I discovered it was a separate piece that could be removed. So far so good. I decided to stick my nose in a little farther. Who can resist the lure of a secret compartment? Not me. Inside lay a folded-up piece of old paper, brittle, and yellowed with age. It was a handwritten note, but what penmanship! Not calligraphy; none of the fancy changes in line weight and formalized structure and all that. No, this was everyday writing, but I'd never seen script so elegant. Some of the words didn't make sense; several 'f' letters were in the wrong places. Suddenly I remembered seeing the same thing in a handwritten copy of the US Bill of Rights: 'Congress' had been spelled 'Congrefs'. My teacher had explained it was the way they used to write the letter 's' in some words. This was definitely an old note — maybe even written by Prudence herself. The word 'Visitation'.was printed on the back — a title? What that meant, I hadn't a clue. Reading on it looked like some sort of recipe. 'Flowers of nitre'. 'Blood of a bat'. My English ancestors had had low standards about what constituted food; but even so, bat's blood seemed a stretch. Everything listed sounded gross, nasty, or vile, and the preparation directions were every bit as weird. "Mix at midnight under the light of a full moon. Stir only with a sprig of mistletoe." A delightful chill of recognition scurried down my spine. Witchcraft! Multi-great grandmother Prudence had been a witch, and this was a magic potion. Then I gave myself a stout mental slap on the side of my head. Don't be silly. Yet, here in my hand, I held the evidence. * * * * * * In July, I had a couple weeks of vacation coming to me. I decided that would be the time to experiment with umpty-great grandma Prudence's magic potion. In the weeks leading up to it, I had worked to find the ingredients. The Internet was a godsend. Who knew there were coven supply stores catering to the needs of modern witches? I didn't buy much, having more than a few doubts about their legitimacy; but I did find a vial of bat's blood. The man had said it was bat's blood.... Even if it turned out to be only 'blood of a small mammal', it might still be okay for the bat thing. By the start of my vacation I had everything ready. I watched the sun go down, in the nude, as instructed. I was so shy I stood well back from my open bedroom window, out of sight. As the sun set, the full moon rose — I could see it out my bathroom window. At midnight, I began mixing ingredients in a cast-iron pot. When I'd finished the last incantation, the potion slowly turned luminous, and vapors arose from the liquid, giving off an intoxicating scent. I took one deep sniff, and spoke the command line of the spell. The concoction gave off a pulse of light, and a denser stream of murky vapor began to rise into the air. Hastily, I moved back from the kettle. Up until this point the whole thing had been a lark, an experiment ... a way of feeling a connection with dear old whatever-great grandmother Prudence. Now for the first time, I was having second thoughts. Maybe being a klutz was not my only strong point. Maybe being stupidly foolhardy was my defining characteristic. The vapor suddenly condensed into the figure of a man — tall, well-built ... and entirely naked. The naked part caught my attention, but then I noticed the overall reddish tint to his skin, and two short, sharp horns protruding from his forehead. Uh oh. He looked around my bedroom, took a deep breath, and sighed. "Ah, the mortal plane! It has been years and years." Seeing me cowering by the closet, he said, "And you must be the summoner." He smiled and I saw a mouth full of big, white normal looking teeth — not a pointy fang in his mouth. I suddenly remembered my nudity at just about the same moment he'd turned and looked at me. I bent over to cover all my places, and did not find enough parts to do the job. Too embarrassed to look at him, I partially turned away but then realized I had nothing to cover my bum if I turned any farther. "Modesty," he sighed. "So there is still work for me to do here." He made an abrupt gesture with his hand for me to stand up. "Come, come. I am just an apparition constrained by your summoning spell. No need to be bashful. Neither of us has anything to hide from the other. You summoned me, so I am here at your request." I glanced back at him. He did appear pretty insubstantial. He hadn't moved from the spot directly over the potion, and as I watched, a spiral of vapor seemed to give him a little more substance. It was like he was projected onto the fumes rising from the pot. "That's right," he encouraged, "there's nothing to fear. I can't move from this spot, and I can't touch you because I'm not fully a part of this plane. Why don't we talk a bit?" He smiled, the very image of a caring, compassionate friend. I was not fooled. Nope. Never. I had summoned the Deceiver, the Father of Lies, and I didn't believe a word. However, I did uncurl enough to stand a little straighter. "That's better," he said and gestured toward my bed along the wall. "Why don't you sit down and be comfortable? It's been so long since I've had any communication with this plane, I would like to hear what is happening." He raised a ghostly hand thoughtfully to his chin. "Judging by your attempt at decorum just now, the Adversary still holds sway with his grandiose structure of propriety and strict rules of morality." He was talking over my head, and it made me feel a little foolish. "Are you saying you think we should be naked all the time?" "Of course not. How could you get anything done?" He leered a little at that, at least I think he did. His eyebrows appeared to be naturally arched, and his grin had been lopsided from the start. He gave a little chuff of a laugh. "No, my dear girl, everything has its place. However, your churchified leaders of morality would have you believe that any glimpse of 'forbidden' skin is unnatural, immoral, depraved, and just ... really bad." He had a nice smile, and I felt a little more comfortable. "I would, if I could, free you all from the burden of pointless moral mandates." I sat on the edge of the bed — with my legs crossed. "Pointless?" I said. "My mother always said that morality is the only thing that separates us from the animals." "You really think you humans are more moral than the animals? Yes, they kill and humans kill, but animals kill for need rather than just for the sake of sport or wholesale slaughter. Your race is not even half as moral as the wild beasts," he said disgustedly. He sounded like my old philosophy professor, back five years ago when I was in college. I smiled just a little. I'd always enjoyed the arguments in that class. "So what is your grand scheme of morality?" "It's not a grand scheme at all. No, I work to return the human race to the same, innocent version of sexual morality you are all born with before your social overlords, inspired by the Adversary, impose their own strait-jacketed version on your natural physicality." He looked at me, and suddenly it felt as if his eyes were boring down into my very soul. My life was as naked to him as my body. Fight or flight? My muscles tensed to run, but at the last second I drew a deep breath. The feeling passed quickly, and I sat still while the pulse of adrenaline ebbed. "Ah, you are still a maiden untutored in the carnal arts," he said. "Oh, a little play here and there, but unmarked and inexperienced." He smiled knowingly at me, and I had a sudden flush of shame. I had never yet had a serious boyfriend, and lately my dates had been mainly first dates. I flashed on an image of Johnny Crawford, the first boy to kiss me, back in seventh grade. There had been very few since. I shrugged. "Okay, you got me. Big deal. I suppose your 'miracle cure' for the human race will change all that. You want to turn me and all the people on the planet into a bunch of sex maniacs." One thing I had learned working at Arnold Collections: a good offense was the best defense. My devil incarnate smiled. "I only want to restore the sexuality that is rightfully yours. Take you," he continued. "You have so much to discover. Wouldn't you rather learn things the right way, the natural way, rather than be bound by some arbitrary rules of right and wrong?" He gestured down at himself. "Here is a perfect rendition of the human male form. As long as the spell holds me on this plane, you have the opportunity to study and learn." He was right about the study part. While we had been talking, I had been observing his body, and it was pretty darned perfect. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him — every muscle stood out in chiseled perfection. Except for the horns, he could have been Michelangelo's David. Well, okay, there was the penis thing. David, the statue, has very modest equipment for a man of his stature. My captive Lucifer was hung like a bull. "Ah, yes. The male organ. Please feel free to study it. Although this one is identical to a human penis, it does have several additional capabilities. I mean, how could I be super-natural if I didn't have something a little extra?" He put his hands on his hips. "An ordinary penis has two states, up or down, erect or flaccid, while my penis is entirely prehensile." While I watched, it swelled up into an erection of impressive size and pointed urgently upward. I felt a little quiver of response between my legs. Evidently my sexual parts didn't care that this penis was attached to a demon direct from hell. His erection flexed to the right, then left, while he remained stationary, still posed in front of me. Up, then down. Then it curved around in a spiral. I felt another little flutter in my vagina, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have it up inside me, twisting, turning, exploring.... "There is the size thing, as well. Some women like large ..." his cock swelled larger and longer until it was at least as big around as the barrel of a baseball bat, "... while others prefer a more delicate approach." Obediently, the organ diminished in size, but still retained its flexible stiffness. "I can be whatever is needful." Never having seen a live penis, let alone one like this, I was enthralled. My lips were dry as toast when I licked them. "Nice," I managed to croak. "Hmm, you are interested, yes? Why don't you come a little closer? It's perfectly safe, and you can see better." Mesmerized, I slid off the bed and approached the kettle on my hands and knees. As I got closer, I could see better. In fact, the closer I got, the more substantial he seemed. That was perfect, because I could see more and more detail of that impressive organ between his legs. "Notice how I can make it point in any direction I want," his voice soothed, his cock moving in a serpentine fashion back and forth in front of my face. Fascinatingly mesmerizing. "I think it would look better a little larger," I said. My chest tightened, as he obliged. "Now a little longer." I was no stranger to porn, but his cock was beyond anything I'd seen before. "Magnificent," I breathed. "A little closer, perhaps?" he said, and I unthinkingly scooched a little closer. Now, he appeared as solid and real as flesh and blood, and I was just inches from his magnificent cock. "You can touch it. I won't mind a bit." My pussy gave a little throb of encouragement, and I reached out, folding my fingers around his huge organ. Incorporeal though he had appeared when first conjured, I now had my hands on a very tangible cock. As I stroked up and down its length, I heard him sigh. "That is just perfect. Now we can do what I came here to do." He took my arm, pulled me to my feet, and steered me toward the bed. "Time to see to your sexual awakening." My hand still around his cock, I suddenly realized he had stepped out of the vapor stream over the kettle. I tried to jump back. "You said you couldn't move! You said you couldn't touch me!" I accused. The Father of Lies still had hold of my arm, and he stayed right at my side. "And that was all true." He shook his head, shushing me as I started to protest. "I couldn't touch you, but you could touch me. That's all it takes to make the connection. You invited me to step into your plane." With a thrill of horror, I realized I had indeed made it possible for him to enter the physical world. I finally let go of his cock and pried at the fingers gripping my arm. "Let me go," I said, sounding like a bad actress in an afternoon TV drama. Another step, and my knees were up against the edge of the bed; with a slight push, he unbalanced me, and I fell back onto the mattress. I managed to gasp out, "So now you are going to rape me and turn me into a mindless sex slave?" I was close to hyperventilating from fear. That accusation made him pause, albeit only to chuckle. "You will not become a sex slave," he said. "In fact, you will have much more control over your own sexuality than ever before. You will know your body so well you will be able to tell when you are fertile — or not. All of your old, patriarchal inhibitions will be gone. Yes, you will most likely have more sex, but it will only be the sex you want to have." "So I'll probably catch some disease then." I was sitting up on the bed, and he still held my arm, but he had made no other moves. Yet. "You will find yourself much more perceptive of another's state of health. Someone with a sexual disease will seem repellent." He took my arm and urged me back on the bed. "And I will not rape you." He smiled, and I felt a twitch down in my loins. Oh, body, betray me not. I couldn't take my eyes off his lips as he said, "I will not violate you against your will," his smile got broader, "but everyone welcomes me." "Fat chance," I said as he pulled my arm up to the head of the bed. "Hold that," he commanded. My hand involuntarily gripped one of the spindles on the headboard. He let go of that arm and took hold of the other one. "Hold that," he said again, and at his command my other hand gripped another spindle. Now I was flat on my back with my hands firmly clutching the headboard. I couldn't let go. He stood for a moment and appraised me thoughtfully. "Now, if you should like to talk with me again, you don't have to go through all of this." He gestured at my witch's caldron. "No, all you need do is call my name out loud three times. Just say, 'Red, Red, Red.' [Actual name redacted for safety reasons, the Establishment.]." At that point I just wanted him to leave me alone. I had no interest in ever, at any point in my hopefully long life, seeing him again and told him so. "But you're going to rape me anyway," I wailed, "so just get to it." The bed sagged as he sat down alongside me. "No, I won't do anything you don't want me to. All I am going to do is give you one little kiss." One little kiss? He was a guy. All right, a guy-devil, and he had me naked and helpless on the bed. I watched his eyes, as he got closer to my face. He was handsome in a diabolical way, and I probably would have kissed an ordinary guy who looked half as good. When his lips touched mine, I got the surprise of my life. A wave of pure pleasure danced around the rim of my mouth. My lips spasmed with orgasmic bliss. I heard myself moaning and even squealing as he released my lips and withdrew slowly, pausing six inches away. I found it difficult to catch my breath so I could ask, "Oh my god, what was that?" He smiled. "That was a foul oath you just used, but I'll excuse you this time." He tilted his head to one side and looked at me. "One of my talents is producing orgasms in humans. I said I would not do anything more than one kiss. So. There you go." What a kiss! I still couldn't let go of the headboard, but I also couldn't help wanting to experience that kiss again. "Wait." And here you go making a deal with the Devil, I told myself — but I couldn't help it. "I, uh — I never knew you could have an orgasm on your mouth." "You would be surprised at the number of places on your body where that is possible. What about your tongue?" "My tongue?" He leaned close and opened his mouth. I saw his tongue stretch out a little past his lips — then way past his lips. He had a very long tongue, and I knew I would really be in dutch if I let him probe my nether-lands with it. No, he was only offering to touch my tongue; the memory of how my lips had felt just a moment ago made me open my mouth and extend my own tongue until it just touched his. The Devil May Care A bolt of lightning — orgasmic lightning. A pulse of sensation traveled up from the base of my tongue to its tip. Then two more pulses. Could this be what a penis feels like when it ejaculates? My tongue spasmed just as my lips had, and in a moment we were kissing deeply, our tongues tangling. Long and sensuous, the kiss went on and on. So did the orgasms, gradually getting less intense until they died away. He drew back from me slowly. I smiled lazily up at him. "That was amazing. Can you do it again, or was that all of it?" "Plenty more. Where would you like it next?" No longer was he some monster I had conjured from the pits of hell. No, he was more like a tool for producing orgasms ... and I liked the orgasms! "Well, there's my nipples," I offered hopefully. I could feel them already clenched in tight, hard little buds of anticipation. "Of course. But before I get to them, how about here." He leaned over toward my armpit, and I had just time for a momentary flicker of concern: the last time I had shaved was ... when? But then his lips touched my skin, and the spasm of my climax made my arms flex, both at once, and drew me a little farther up the bed. "Or maybe here." He gently took my earlobe in between his supple lips. I didn't know you could hear an orgasm, but the sensual buzzing purr in my ear reached a quick peak at the moment of maximum sensation. That climax sent another involuntary twitch along my jaw, and my teeth snapped shut on my tongue. "Ow!" I started, but my complaint died when he kissed my mouth again. As his tongue started sending paroxysms of pleasure through mine, I couldn't even recall what I'd been fussed about. He retreated, positioned so he could gaze at my breasts. My nipples stared right back at him. Hard. The orgasms in all the places where he had touched me so far had faded, but a residual, languid glow lingered. I wanted more. Much more. "Do it," I said. "Make my nipples cum!" I glanced down. Both were tensed, little brown nubs, just waiting for heaven — or whatever it was he was serving. He was sadistic — of course. What would you expect from a demon from hell? He leaned forward and I felt warm breath caress the swell of my breasts. My nipples were sitting up, begging for attention. And yet, still he made them both wait. I began to moan in frustration, and that's when he struck. His tongue flicked out and caressed my left nipple. It puckered up even more in reaction to his touch, and a moment later the sensation reached my brain. It was a shock, a spark, a pulse of pure pleasure. I moaned. I groaned. I recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Okay, not that last one, but my point is, I was not exactly in control of what came out of my mouth at that point. "More! More!" I dissolved into ecstasy when he casually licked my other nipple. I had two glowing spots of orgasmic fire on my chest. "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me, please!" I shrieked. He smiled that delicious smile yet again and maneuvered his large body above mine. My hands still couldn't let go of the bed spindles, but at that point I would not have fought him off. He knelt between my legs, and I made more room. There was no momentary pause to position his cock. Instead, he propped himself up, braced against the bed on his elbows, forearms resting flat, muscular biceps flexed, his broad red, sexy chest aligned with my collar bone, and looked down at me. "It is time now, and you are ready, yes?" His eyes burned into mine. "Please take me. I want you." One little voice deep inside my brain screamed, You are completely crazy! But the rest of me could only hear the urgent needs of every nerve cell in my body. He didn't move, but suddenly I felt a blunt shape curling around and probing the entrance to my vagina. I was soaking wet with desire, and his penis was a muscular tentacle. There was scarcely a hint of resistance as I felt it move inside me. This time there was no instant orgasm, just a long rush of sensation as he filled me up. He started to move; then pulled back a little before stroking further in. I groaned and tried to push myself onto his cock. "Let go," he said, and suddenly my hands were free. I ached from holding on while thrashing around, but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around him and clawed at his back to get a better grip. I needed as much of that cock in me as I could stand. "More," I gasped. "Bigger. I want more." His cock swelled to fill me completely. He took another stroke. Bliss. Another stroke. Bliss again. "More." How greedy I had become. He smiled, and his cock stretched me a little more and then stilled; nothing moved. I groaned in frustration. "Now I must be a little careful of you, this first time." His cock shrank, yet it still filled me. "We must be a little careful because you will want to use this again." Oh, I did! Again and again. He started moving. He no longer stretched me, but feeling his demon cock moving inside made all the muscles in my pelvis pulse in time with his strokes. My entire focus centered on the mountain of heated passion that was building in my loins. The crest was almost there.... As my orgasm started, he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. The first spasm of sexual release in my lips met the burst of sensation coming from my sex, and it set up a circuit of sexual frenzy that flowed through my body cascading through me, and then I felt his cock throb inside of me. His orgasm was white fire. It flowed from his cock up into my body and down through my thighs, my calves, my toes. As the feeling surged upward through my body, every nerve began to beat in rhythm with his climax. The sensation reached my brain, everything went white, and suddenly.... ** * * * * I woke up without a thought in my head. It was dark inside the room. I was covered in sweat. Fishing around for a blanket, I realized I lay on top of the bedcovers. I was totally naked. What? Suddenly it all came rushing back — the preparations, the spell, the demon, the sex. The sex? Rolling over, I groaned; that had to have been the most vivid sex dream I had ever had. Sitting up, I opened my eyes again. It was morning because I could see little rays of light peaking around the edges of the heavy curtain. I slid out of bed. Fuzzy from sleep I wasn't paying attention, and I almost tripped over the cauldron. Inside it, things floated in liquid, just as they had before I had completed the incantation last night. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Now I knew it wasn't just a dream. On my way to the bathroom, twinges in my muscles sent little messages of earlier abuse. My shoulders felt tight, and my crotch muscles were stiff. I remembered spreading my legs, trying to take as much of him inside me as I could. Probing around a little, my sex parts were still intact. Hard to believe the orgasm, as I remembered it, could have left anything intact. A pleasant scurry of sensation pulsed through my clit, and I gave myself a little squeeze. Maybe I would just play with myself a little before I took a shower. Wait. I had never masturbated before. What was I thinking? I remembered the — Devil? Demon? Random, sexually obsessed, incubus? I had conjured up last night — had told me he would free my attitudes and inhibitions about sex. Hmm. I was naked, in my apartment, with the drapes closed. I went to the window and jerked the curtains back. For a time I stood in the window enjoying the warmth of the sun on my body before I wandered back to the bed and sat down. No, that didn't seem to bother me a bit. I guess if somebody got a thrill from my body, well, good for them. It wasn't like I just had to go out and fuck someone. Hmm. Then again, I never would have used the word 'fuck' before either. All systems seemed fine: I didn't feel like I was obsessed with sex. I still felt healthy, happy, and well-adjusted. So — time to get ready for the day. It wouldn't do to waste a vacation day. I turned on the hot water, and climbed in the shower. It felt good to run my soapy hands all over my slick body. Ah. And, yes, I did masturbate. It was so ... relaxing. * * * * * * "Hey, guy. What's up?" I greeted Andy. Sitting in a quiet corner table at the local coffee shop later that day, I'd looked up to see him at my elbow, holding one of those little tiny shot-thingys of espresso. Probably it was loaded with more total caffeine than my whole long, tall, steamy-hot cappuccino. Andy Trammlin and I had had a total of two dates before he had met my best friend Shana with whom he had become instantly smitten. I still liked him, and we talked from time to time whenever we ran into each other. "Elizabeth, it's great to see you. Do you mind if I join you?" Even if I had minded, his butt was already in the chair. "So Andy, what's up? Why are you on the loose in the middle of the week?" He sat there for a moment looking as if his dog had died. "It's Shana. I took a day off because I'm trying to get my head on straight." "Why? What's the matter? Is she pregnant or something?" "No. No, not that." He waved his hands. "I don't ... I can't...." "She's found someone else?" He seemed to deflate. "No. Not yet, anyway. At least, I don't think so." Time to play twenty questions? Animal, mineral, vegetable, or relationship? "So, you are having trouble with Shana?" "Yeah." He swallowed and appeared to summon up some courage. "She says I don't satisfy her." He paused. It was a long pause. Finally, I got tired of waiting. "So, what?" I pressed. "Equipment too small? Too short a fuse? Bad technique?" Not that I had any experience, but the conversation wasn't going anywhere unless I helped. He reddened, but managed to stammer out, "She wants me to lick her — to go down on her." "Well, just do it." I'd never done it, of course, but at one point last night I had been hoping Red would do it to me. He hadn't, but it was on the list for next time. There were tears in his eyes. "I can't!" he said in a strained voice. He shook his head sorrowfully from side to side. "It just seems ... so nasty!" His fists were on the table, and he lowered his head until his forehead rested on them. What would I have said a day or two ago? When my friend Carrie had described a blowjob she had once given, I had listened, thinking it all sounded so gross. Now, the thought of wrapping my lips around a hot cock excited me, and my loins gave a little twitch in confirmation. I thought about Red. If ever someone needed to lose some inhibitions, it was Andy. "What if I could help?" I asked. His head snapped up, and he looked at me with hopeful, puppy-dog eyes. "You could? That would be great!" But the next moment, his brain seemed to catch up. "Uh, how would you help?" he asked cautiously. I reached out and took his hands in mine. "You know I've always liked you, Andy, and I'd like to see you and Shana be happy." I smiled encouragingly. "You just need to try it once. I know you'll like it. Why don't you come with me, and I'll find a way to change your mind." If I thought he had been blushing before, I had underestimated how blood red his face could actually get. "Uh, what ... um, you...?" Before he tied his tongue in a bowline knot, I released his hands. "Oh, not me, silly." At least, not right at first. "I know someone who is a sort of, uh, a sex therapist." "Therapy?" This was a new thought, and since he evidently wasn't thinking real well right now, it took a while to penetrate. "Sex therapy. Yeah, maybe that would help. Right now I'll try anything." "Right. A little therapy, then you can surprise Shana." Now, would he let me take him back to my apartment, to introduce him to Red? And, hmm, another thought: how would Red's therapy work with a male? Would Andy have to take it up the ass, or ... how would that work? Well, Red had implied he could operate on males as well as females. This could be educational for more persons than just Andy. We made it back to my apartment, but he was so nervous I made him imbibe a tall, double-shot of good bourbon. He stood for a while, downing his drink, tension oozing from every pore. The whiskey started to sink in; his hands stopped shaking. I sat him down on the couch and walked out of the room. In my bedroom, I uttered the words to summon Red. A moment later the air shimmered, and there he was. At the first glimpse of his perfect, naked body, I felt my nipples contract. I definitely had the urge again. But no. This was not about me. Not right now, anyway. "Elizabeth! What can I do for you today?" He bowed politely. I tried to make my eyes meet his. His red skin looked warm and luscious enough to lick. His cock undulated, rising up tall and strong to greet me — his own little sexual salute. "I have someone who needs your help." "Ah! The young gentleman in the other room?" he said, looking at me speculatively. "You have a boyfriend already. Good for you." "I wish. No, this is more of a humanitarian gesture." I sort of made a fluttery gesture toward the living room. "He has hang-ups and can't satisfy his girlfriend." A little uncertain now I asked, "You do work on guys, don't you?" Red smiled, and then with another shimmer, a stunningly beautiful demoness stood before me. "This form usually works better for human males," he said in a low, sultry feminine voice. For a moment I couldn't think of anything to say. I had never really thought of other women in a sexual way before, but Red, in this female form, certainly merited consideration. Her breasts were large and high with darker red aureoles, and nipples that stood up enticingly. I had a thought. "As much as men like boobs, I'll bet you can make those bigger, can't you?" Red smiled. "You have good instincts about male sexual cravings." She looked past me toward the living room. "Now let's see to that poor boy." She favored me with a look. "Why don't take your clothes off and come watch? I can tell you would like a little attention after I'm done with him." My knees started to quiver. By the time I'd undressed and joined them in the living room, Andy was well under her spell. His eyes were big and round as he stared at Red's gloriously nude body. He did glance my way when I entered the room, and I felt surprised to find his eyes linger on me. Not that I can't turn heads, but Red's body was a spectacular example of female sensuality. She was voluptuous with a capital 'V' writ large. In a flowery font. Andy's attention now focused totally on Red, and I saw her step forward to give him that "one little kiss" which would seal his fate. I took a seat in the swivel chair next to the couch and watched her slowly press her lips against his. Any concerns I may have had about Red's effect on men, vanished. Andy stiffened when their lips touched. Yes, he did stand up straighter as the first burst of orgasm twitched his lips, but more than that, the front of his pants tented impressively. Very impressively. Andy and I had never gotten beyond the warm kissing stage, and for a best friend, Shana had been disappointingly tight-lipped about Andy's sexual talents. I was even more impressed a few moments later, after Andy's frantic efforts to get himself quickly naked had succeeded. 'Little Andy' stood up tall and proud, not that I got more than a brief look before Red closed in and took him in her arms. They toppled back onto the couch, with Red kissing him deeply. Veins stood out on Andy's neck, and I could just imagine the pulses of orgasmic fire that were flowing through his lips and tongue. My own mouth went dry. Red was on top and in control. She moved away from his mouth, and she left him panting and gasping for air. His eyes were wild, but then they bugged out as Red hunched her hips forward to impale herself on his cock. She sank down easily and started a slow rocking motion. Given the devilish muscular abilities Red's cock had had, I started imagining how talented the interior muscles of Red's vagina must be. In fact, thinking about her muscles squeezing, kneading, and massaging Andy's cock made me reach between my own legs. Keeping time with Red's movements, I forked two fingers on either side of my clit and stroked slowly, pulling up and savoring the slick dewy moisture that welled up. The moment was approaching. Andy was gasping with pleasure, and Red had become more focused and precise with her tempo. She gave a low gasp as she pressed herself down one more time then leaned forward to kiss Andy on the lips. His eyes bugged, and as I watched, a glow spread from his sex on through his whole body. In another moment, he went limp against the cushions. Red paused a moment before she detached herself and stood up. She looked at me and said, "That was very satisfying. Thank you for the introduction." I smiled, but kept playing with myself. Although I'd never been with a girl before, I was ready, willing, and able. She seemed to sense my desire for her female form. "Would you like a little reward?" I nodded dumbly, and she knelt between my legs. My knees swayed apart to make room, but she took her time approaching me slowly and deliberately. I wanted to grab her head and put it between my legs, but I relaxed and let her set the tempo. She was the expert. And was she an expert! The first touch of her tongue to my outer lips sent a pulse of fire up into my pussy, and my legs jerked in response to the wave of sensation. I half sat up, but collapsed backward as the muscles in the center of my body responded to another wave of orgasmic bliss. I felt her long, long, tongue snake and wiggle its way up into my vagina, accompanied at every turn by new ripples of pleasure. Slowly the pace and strength of my orgasms faded. I lay there, falling off the chair in a daze. She helped me slide to the floor, and I was dimly aware of her moving up over the top of me. Her kiss was light, and I only got a small buzz of pleasure on my lips — not a full orgasm, but it felt plenty good. Then I felt something new. That something was moving against my vulva already soaked from her previous attentions. A blunt shape pushed inside me, and I realized what must be happening. Red was still in her female form, but she had re-grown that magical penis, and now it was skewering up inside of me. "Oh, what are you doing to me?" It sounded like someone else screaming. "Just exactly what you want.". And it was exactly what I wanted. Nothing made me feel more complete than having a cock inside me. I started having orgasm after orgasm as that luscious cock plowed its way in and out of me. Finally, after one last stunningly powerful climax, Red pulled out of me and stood up. "Thank you, thank you, thank you...." I repeated. She leaned over and gave me one last tingling kiss, and then I was alone. Without a thought in my head, I just faded out. ** * * * * "Elizabeth." Someone was shaking my shoulder. What? Why? I blinked a couple of times, and recognized Andy's face bending over me. "My goodness," I finally said. "I guess therapy can take a lot out of you." He grinned. "It was a little more than I expected. Could you explain what just happened here?" Scooting over to the couch, I leaned against it and ran a hand through my hair to get it out of my face. "Well, it's kind of a long story, but supposedly you are now cured of all your sexual inhibitions." He slid over to the couch as well and rested beside me. "I've got some time if you want to tell me the rest of the story." Skeptical at first, he listened, and he couldn't deny what had happened. This gave me some credibility. "Take me, for example," I said. "A week ago I would have gone completely into the infrared if you had caught me topless. Now we're both sitting here buck naked, and I'm not the least embarrassed." "Well, you don't have anything to be embarrassed about," he said. "You really have an excellent body. Do you work out?" The Devil May Care "Oh, a little here and there," I admitted. Only for an hour and fifteen minutes, six days a week, at a gym that charges me $125 a month. I smiled. "How nice of you to notice." I looked over at him and could see evidence that he did like the way I looked. "So, have your inhibitions about oral sex been fixed?" He grinned at me. "I can think of a good way to check." He rolled over and gave me a peck on my thigh. Hmm. Was this ethical? Shana was my best friend, and Andy her boyfriend. Andy gave me another peck on the thigh. Actually it was more than a peck, and its more advanced location satisfied me, Andy no longer had any reluctance about putting his mouth where it counts. "Hold on, Buster," I said, taking hold of his hair and lifting his head out of its new trajectory toward my crotch. "Huh?" he looked at me with some serious puppy-dog eyes. "I thought you could help me test it out." "Nope. You need to take your new talents home to Shana," I said with all the conviction I could muster. He sat up and scratched his head. "Yeah, you're right. Still, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Once dressed, we met back at my front door. "I really do want to thank you," he said. "I'm still skeptical about who," he paused, "or what she was, but I never will forget the therapy." He gave me a little friendship buss on the cheek, and then he was out the door. ** * * * * Two days later I got a voice message from Shana. She wanted to talk. Was she pleased with Andy's new willingness to kiss the kitty? But how much did Andy share about his therapy session? Was she upset that I had taken things into my own hands? Had Andy said anything about Red? I put my trepidations on a leash, and after a walk around the block, they were content to sit quietly in the back of my mind. It was Shana's day off, so I went over to see her about two o'clock. She met me at the door in a robe with a glass of wine. "Come on in and join me. Let's get in the hot tub." It was her favorite spot, and we had had "vino in the vat" many times before. The tub was just outside on a small, enclosed patio screened for privacy, and Shana often tubbed nude, especially once the sun went down. I'd kept a swimsuit in the extra bathroom. But with no current inhibitions, I decided to throw caution to the wind. Shana arched her eyebrows at me when I unwrapped my large towel and slid naked into the water beside her. "You are getting awfully bold in your old age. I think I'll join you." She stood and doffed her skimpy two-piece. "Ah, that's better." She opened a bottle of white wine and poured me a generous glass. I noticed there was another bottle sitting empty beside the wine cooler. After taking a nice long sip, I looked at her. "So, what are we going to talk about?" At first she said nothing and just stared past me. Finally, she took another swallow of wine and sighed. "Andy and I have been having trouble." I figured it was better to play dumb, so I waited a little for her to go on. However, she seemed to have lost the thread. What else if not sex therapy sessions, are friends good for? Finally I asked, "What kind of trouble?" "I ... we...." She hung her head a moment then took another slug of wine. "We were having trouble because Andy didn't like to ... you know ... lick me." Her face was red; discussing intimate details of our friends' and relatives' sex lives was different from discussing her own. After another sip of courage, she continued. "He went out and got some kind of therapy so he could, you know, go down on me. Last night he went right to it, but I was so, I don't know, nervous I guess, that I couldn't get into it. Finally we just quit." A little tear trickled down her cheek. Not sure what to say, I leaned forward and gave her a hug. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sure you guys will work this out." "I know, but he goes out of his way to get help to please me, but then ... he can't please me." She finished with a rush and buried her head in my shoulder, sobbing. I held her in my arms until she had stopped sobbing. She snuffed and backed out of my embrace. "Thank you, Elizabeth. I don't know what I'd do without you." She retrieved her towel and wiped her face — and took another sip of wine. My position while I'd held her had been a little awkward, and I straightened up and stretched out my arm. She set down her wine glass and slid over beside me. "I'm sorry. I was just inconsiderate. Here, let me help you get the knots out." She reached for my shoulders and turned me away from her so she could massage the muscles. She rolled my shoulder and then worked her thumbs into the muscles on either side of the top of my spine. It felt good. In fact, it felt very good, since my shoulders were tense. I told her about how this morning I had gotten an email from my boss, Mr. Brenner, about an error I had made on the Murcheson account, and bemoaned having to spent three of my precious vacation hours getting everything straightened out. By the time I'd finished, the muscles were relaxed and Shana was finishing up. "Oh, thank you. You don't know how good that feels." "Mmmm, maybe I do," she whispered in my ear. "Your skin is so nice and smooth. I like rubbing you." What do you say to something like that? By this time I was into my second glass of wine, and I felt the lift of euphoria shutting down the worry cells in my brain. Shana's hands were soothing, and she let them trail down my arms. She nudged me to turn toward the wall of the tub. Moving a towel to the ledge, she said, "Lean on that and let me rub your back." She didn't have to ask twice. I rested my arms on the towel, then my head on my arms. Shana moved behind me and started rubbing my back. Thoughts of just relaxing were diverted when I shifted to straddle one of the tub's many contours, and it brought my sex near one of the water jets. Casually, I let my left leg shift forward just a little, and Bingo! — a clitoral bull's eye. I was warm and relaxed, Shana was rubbing my back, and the wonderful ripples swirled and tickled and teased in a delightfully endless pattern of stimulation across my lips and clit. A week ago, I would have been completely mortified by this situation, but now I just went with the flow — so to speak. Shana upped the ante quite considerably by sliding her hands off my back, trailing them along the sides of my breasts. She stroked around them, then up to the tips. Catching my stiffened buds between her thumb and forefinger, she squeezed both nipples at once. Instantly, my orgasm burst forth out of my sex, and Shana pulled me over the edge into complete insensibility by pinching my nipples in time to the spasms that rolled through my body. I'm not sure how long it took me to start thinking again, but it wasn't too long. Shana had pulled away from me and was sitting back with a strange look on her face. Was she having second thoughts about what she had just done? Right now I didn't want her thinking, so I slid over to her and pulled her into an embrace. I gave her a warm kiss and whispered, "Thank you." She looked at me, lost in a fog, so I gave her another kiss. That one penetrated, and she kissed me back. Then she kissed me back enthusiastically. I started stroking her hair with my hands, tracing down her arms. Her wet nipples poked into my slippery breasts; I captured one between my fingers and gave it a gentle squeeze. She groaned in my mouth, and I took that to mean she enjoyed it. I tried the other one with my other hand, and that one was working too. By now she was panting, and I encouraged her to slide up out of the water and on to the platform around the hot tub. My towel was nearby, so I flipped that out so she had something soft to lie back on. There was something I wanted to try. I got between her legs, and she looked at me dumbly. "Let's see if this works," I said and lowered my mouth to her vulva. This was new territory for me, but by now I knew what I liked, so I tried the same on her. I give her bush a little kiss, and then let my tongue trail out over her moist flesh. She was wet from the water of the tub, but I immediately found a different kind of succulence to the flesh between her legs. She had a tangy-sweet nectar flowing from her sex, and I lapped it up. Evidently I got it right, because her legs started to tremble. Encouraged, I moved up to find where her clitoris sprouted out between her soft, sweet folds. Hearing her mumble, I raised my head. "What?" "Oh, right there!" she gasped. I paused. "Please?" she said. I had paused because Andy was standing in the doorway, a few paces behind Shana. He was naked, his large cock nicely hard, and he was stroking it while he watched us. He winked, raising his finger to his lips to urge me to silence. Okay, if he wanted to get his rocks off watching me pleasure his wife, I could do that. After all, I had watched him with Red. Of course it wasn't the same at all, but rationalizations are quite simple in the throes of passion. I resumed zeroing in on her clit. "Unh, unh, unh," she chanted with every stroke. Even as I was tempted to count how many it took to get her off, she erupted into a climax that shook the hot tub. Her legs spasmed up, squeezing my head, and I steadfastly remained in place, feeling the little pulses slowly die away under my now-stationary tongue. When her legs finally released me, I moved up to snuggle and kiss her, but she had started crying by the time I got there. She saw me and wailed, "Oh, I'm an evil pervert!" She turned away from me, and that's when she saw Andy. "OH! No, no, no..." she chanted to herself, curling into a ball on the walkway around the tub. She clutched at the towel, and rolled into a fetal position, rocking back and forth. Andy went to Shana and tried to comfort her, but she just wailed and tried to pull away. He looked at me desperately. "What can we do?" he pleaded. I hated to see her like this. After all, it was just sex. She must have felt what we had shared was wrong. Forbidden. Taboo. Aha! What she could use was a little therapy to help free her from her inhibitions, and I knew just the therapist. In fact, the four of us could have a fine party once we got Shana calmed down. I called Red.