Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace Page 6

  As Mick dug in his pocket for a handkerchief, about to come himself, he realised Darlene’s gaze was locked on him, her mouth curled in a wicked smile. He came then, jerking and straining with less dignity than he would have preferred. She watched, licking full lips with a hungry pink tongue.

  It was all so vivid, as though the witch had transported him back in time. He could even smell his own humid semen as he filled the handkerchief, knowing that Darlene saw him watching her, knowing that she watched him come while she smiled and licked her lips and…

  Suddenly it was as though someone had poured ice on his cock. He blinked hard and looked again. Surely he was wrong. Darlene’s exquisite tongue flicked over an angry dark canker disfiguring her upper lip.

  Then he was racing down the hall toward the men’s room. He could feel it. He knew it was there. In the mirror, it glared back at him, a canker on his own lip, swollen and virulent. Even as he saw it, some part of him shouted in his head it wasn’t real. This wasn’t how it happened. Darlene was perfect!

  He came to himself with a start, hand darting to his mouth, reassuring himself that it was free of blemish.

  ‘What did you do? What did you do to me?’ he gasped.

  Still naked, Sally lay at his side, resting her head on her arm as she studied him. ‘I’ve done nothing but watch you. It’s your spell, not mine. What happened?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing happened,’ he lied. ‘It was just so vivid.’

  She offered him a tolerant smile. ‘Whatever didn’t happen didn’t do your hard-on any good.’

  He looked down at his penis resting insignificantly against his balls and blushed. ‘It’s just disturbing, that’s all. I’ve never had magic done to me before.’

  She chuckled softly. ‘A clarity spell is only a minor discomfort, Mick. A love spell is disturbing.’ She ran a hand down his belly, and his cock responded to her touch. ‘Do you want to continue?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Then let’s do something about this.’ She cupped his balls and gave his rapidly expanding cock a stroke. She lowered her lips to his chest and wreathed his nipples with her warm tongue until they were bullet-hard, then she trailed kisses over his stomach to where the soft down below his navel joined his pubic curls. ‘This is sex magic,’ she whispered against his cock. ‘One has to be excited for sex magic to work. It’s another way of making those boundaries permeable.’ With that, she took him into her mouth clear up to his balls.

  He caught his breath and arched against her. Jesus, was this a part of the spell? Could she really be making him feel so good? Whatever she was doing with her tongue, he never wanted her to stop. He curled his fingers in her hair, and noticed it was the same colour as the candle flames.

  But just when he could have happily stayed in the tree house room with Sally Haddon, he heard her voice inside his head. ‘Find Darlene again. Observe her. See her clearly.’

  Once again he was at work. He had come to the break room for coffee. Darlene and the heavy-set secretary from billing chatted at a corner table.

  He felt like a teenager with a crush. His chest ached, his balls tightened. In his peripheral vision, there was a dark shadow over her upper lip, but as she looked up at him and smiled, he was relieved to see only her perfect kissable mouth.

  She spoke softly to the other woman, but he heard every word, like she whispered it in his ear. ‘Ted’s cock’s big enough, but the man’s got no stamina and no imagination.’

  The secretary chuckled. ‘You must really wear him out. He looks like the walking dead these days.’

  Darlene shrugged. ‘Told you he has no stamina.’

  Mick felt his ears burn with sympathy for Ted. He wondered why he didn’t remember any of this from before.

  ‘Oh Mick,’ Darlene called over her shoulder. His heart flip-flopped. He dribbled hot coffee across the top of his hand. ‘Some of us are going for drinks after work. Wanna join us?’

  A dozen Abacus employees shared several pitchers of margaritas that evening. Darlene ignored Ted and flirted with Ben Taylor, the head of billing. He was married, surely no competition.

  But when Darlene excused herself to the bathroom, and Ben followed, Mick felt the acid sting of jealousy in his chest. When he could stand it no longer, he excused himself to the maze of hallways that led to the rest rooms. He never got that far.

  A shushing sound drew his attention to the door of a store room standing ajar. Holding his breath, he tiptoed closer. He could hear soft moans and grunts. Cautiously he peeked inside.

  There was Ben Taylor, trousers down, pale bare arse muscles clenching as he pistoned Darlene’s upturned cunt. She was bent over, one hand pinching an exposed nipple, the other tweaking her clit. ‘That’s it. Jesus, that’s it! Fuck me hard,’ she breathed.

  Mick’s cock felt like hot lead in his trousers as he watched.

  ‘I’m coming!’ she rasped. ‘Oh God, I’m coming.’

  With an expansive grunt and a quiver up his spine, Ben came too. As the pair collapsed on to a heap of tarpaulins next to a stack of crates, Darlene turned just enough to catch sight of Mick. He froze, his cock went limp. Her mouth was distorted not only by a festered canker, but by teeth grown sharp and too big for lips curled back in a sneer.

  Mick felt his own distorted mouth, tasted blood where the sharp edge of his misshapen teeth grazed his lip.

  He shoved his way out of the dream world and sat up like he was spring-loaded, sucking oxygen. A thin sheen of icy sweat smeared his body. ‘What the hell did you do? You made her ugly. She’s not. She’s beautiful, wonderful.’ He tasted blood.

  ‘Give me a mirror,’ he gasped, fighting back nausea. ‘Jesus! Give me a mirror!’

  Sally offered him a silver gilt hand mirror along with a tissue. ‘You bit your lip while you were under. It happens sometimes.’

  Sure enough, there was a small tooth mark from his normal teeth in his normal mouth. It was seeping blood. The visceral sense of relief passed, and he fumbled for his clothes. ‘I’ve had enough. Break the spell, undo it. I don’t care how, just stop it.’

  ‘It’s already broken.’ She stood and slipped into a robe. Even in his agitated state, he was sorry. He’d grown used to her nakedness. He felt strangely bereft without that intimacy. She extinguished the candles one by one. Outside, a heavy moon hung over the trees.

  Mick drifted through the next few days in a fog. He thought about Sally lying naked, watching him dream, about the way she had cleared his head with her scent, with her taste, with her touch. He shook the memory away. He didn’t want to think about her. He had known what he wanted before Sally Haddon. There had been certainty. Now there was none.

  Sally promised the spell was broken, and yet the world seemed different, darker somehow. Except when he thought of her. Strange that. She was the cause of his disquiet. He should be outraged at her. Instead there were butterflies in his chest when he thought of her.

  He went to the break room for coffee, but there was none. Cursing to himself, he set about making a fresh pot. At the corner table two secretaries chatted. The heavyset one he had overheard talking with Darlene spoke quietly. ‘His wife took the kids and went home to her mother in Manchester.’

  ‘That’s too bad,’ the secretary from accounts said. ‘Ben loves his kids so much.’

  Mick held his breath and listened.

  ‘But he’s not willing to give up Darlene,’ the heavyset one said.

  Mick’s stomach dropped to the floor, as the secretary continued, oblivious to him. ‘Thing is, he doesn’t have Darlene. You saw what she did to Ted Engels.’

  The accounts secretary shook her head. ‘Poor Ben. He’s too naïve to see it.’

  Mick left without coffee. For the rest of the day he buried himself in work. Somewhere in the swirl of numbers and accounts that kept his mind off things, he looked up to find everyone else had gone home. But he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to go to Sally Haddon, but he doubted she’d be very happy to see him as
rude as he’d been to her. He kept working.

  ‘Burning the midnight oil, are we?’ He turned to find Darlene standing with one hand on the perfect curve of her hip, the other blocking the exit of his cubicle.

  His heart bounced in his chest, and he struggled to return his gaze to his spread sheet. ‘Always work to be done.’ He hoped she didn’t hear his pulse hammering in his voice.

  ‘Isn’t there just.’

  He could see her reflection in his monitor as she watched him. The downward curl of her lips said she didn’t appreciate him looking at anything that wasn’t her. He saw the impatient heave of her breasts before she pushed her way in, grabbed his chair and swivelled it around until he was looking down the gaping front of her blouse. Then she gave his cock a solicitous stroke through his trousers.

  Before he could do anything more than gasp, she took his mouth, lips parted, tongue insinuating itself between his teeth. No canker, no sharp teeth, he struggled to reassure himself while she nibbled his bottom lip.

  She came up for air. ‘I’ve seen you watching me. I know what you want.’ She lifted her skirt until he could see her smooth, knickerless cunt. But the cubicle lighting played tricks on his eyes, giving her skin a rough green tint. He blinked and tried to push her away, but she spread her legs and parked her bare pussy on his lap against his crotch, which should have been bursting at the seam. Isn’t this exactly what he wanted? Why wasn’t he hard?

  She guided his hand inside her blouse against the swell of her breast, the place he’d fantasised about touching, licking, sucking. But the smooth skin he had imagined was rough, scaly. His stomach churned. As he struggled to pull free, he caught their reflection in the monitor, cankered lips, teeth grown large and jagged, skin discoloured. With an effort that nearly ended with her on her arse, he fought his way up from the chair with her cursing in surprise.

  Just then Ben called from down the hall. ‘Darlene? Honey? I’m ready.’

  She straightened her clothes.

  ‘The man has kids,’ Mick said.

  She looked up from buttoning her blouse. ‘So?’

  He stood looking at her once again beautiful face. ‘Watching you was wrong. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’ He grabbed his jacket and pushed past her, catching a glimpse of teeth and canker in his peripheral vision. Just before he turned to go, he caught sight of his own face reflected in the monitor. It was smooth and pink except for the hint of stubble.

  Sally answered the door in her robe. Before she could speak, Mick scooped her into his arms and kissed her. To his delight, she was responsive and warm. When she pulled away, he spoke in a rush. ‘The spell? You’re sure it’s broken?’

  ‘Positive.’

  He felt an icy chill. ‘Then what did I just experience at work with Darlene?’

  She led him upstairs while he told her what had happened in breathless, run-on sentences. Still talking, he followed her inside the circle. As she lit candles, he savoured the air effervescing against his fragile pink ordinary skin.

  ‘Is Darlene some kind of monster?’

  ‘There are creatures that survive on sex, some human, some not.’ Sally slipped out of her robe, and his cock surged in response. ‘Our bodies bear the flaws of our souls.’ As she spoke, she undressed him. ‘If we can see our flaws, we can work to heal them. The danger lies in not being able to see.’

  ‘Then what I saw was real?’

  ‘Oh, it was real all right, Mick. Just not everyone is able to see.’

  ‘Did you know?’

  ‘I suspected. I’m a witch, remember?’

  He looked around at the lit candles. ‘Why the circle?’ He forced a laugh. ‘Do I need an exorcism?’

  She held his gaze. ‘The circle is a safe place for a love spell.’

  ‘I don’t want a love spell! Not after what’s happened.’ He stepped away from her, nearly falling backward over the cushions, but she caught his hand and steadied him.

  ‘Mick, the love spell has already been cast. You cast it the first moment you lusted for Darlene, just like Ted and Ben did. Just like Darlene did on all of you.’

  ‘Jesus!’ He sat down hard atop the cushions, fearing for a second that he might pass out.

  ‘Love spells need no witch. They need only the power of human desire. Every day people cast love spells unknowingly. Some are harmless, some are beautiful with astonishing results. Others are devastating, as you’ve just seen.’

  ‘Then what happens now?’

  Sally sat down next to him and shoved his shirt off his shoulders. ‘You willingly faced your flaws. That’s a powerful defence, powerful enough to break Darlene’s spell. That was the key. When you arrived, you were already steeped in Darlene’s magic.’ He yielded as she slid his trousers and boxers off and tossed them aside. ‘Then while you were here, you didn’t realise, but you cast another love spell.’

  ‘Wait a minute, how could I have…?’

  She kissed him, lingering until his whole body tingled with the want of her. Then she guided his hand down to cup her pubis, and as she arched against his fingers with a soft grunt, he understood.

  She whispered against his mouth. ‘I assume you’ve come back so we can shape that spell into something a little less flawed and something a lot more yummy.’

  He breathed in the honeyed scent of her as he stroked and probed her slippery folds. Just when he thought she was about to come, she pulled away and buried her face against his cock, tonguing the underside, making him squirm and writhe in the cushions before she took him fully into her mouth and moved up and down the shaft like a tight fist.

  ‘Are you gonna fuck me?’ he gasped.

  ‘If you need me to,’ she breathed.

  ‘Oh, I need you to.’

  She positioned herself and he pushed into her, gasping as she wrapped her legs around him, tightening her velvety grip. As they moved against each other, he understood completely what a good love spell should be. When they came together, he swore he could almost see the intricate weave of that spell glowing like a halo around their fragile, normal bodies as the magic they created spilled over the circle and out into the moonlit night.

  Hard Times at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility

  It could have passed as a coach excursion through the scenic Surrey hills, but Sadie knew better. This was her bus to an indefinite period of miserable celibacy; at least that was what she thought when she and three other women stepped off the coach in front of the main wing at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility.

  They were met by a tall woman dressed in a riding habit and a conservative tweed jacket that failed miserably to disguise her delicious curves. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun. Her boots were polished to a high sheen, and she carried a riding crop under one arm that made Sadie’s heart skip a beat. She certainly hoped the woman knew how to use it.

  ‘Listen up,’ the woman shouted in a voice that was standard military issue. ‘I’m Ms Greuber, assistant warden.’ Her face became earnest, like she was doing an advert for some local charity. ‘You may not know it, but nymphomania is nearing epidemic proportions in Surrey, and here at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility the problem is being dealt with discreetly, and thoroughly. You’re all here because you’ve admitted you can’t control your sexual appetites, and we’re here to help you curb those appetites and channel your energy in more productive endeavours.’ She paced in front of the four women, stopping to inspect each one in turn.

  Sadie was already horny from the bouncy ride on the coach, and the big, beautiful woman standing in front of her so assertive, so tough, did nothing to ease her pussy or her distended nipples, doing their best to drill through her thin summer shirt.

  ‘You’re not wearing a bra.’

  Sadie shook her head. ‘It’s too hot.’

  Ms Greuber gave Sadie’s 38Cs a rough squeeze. ‘Nevertheless, in future you’ll wear a bra, or you’ll suffer the consequences.’ She gave Sadie’s tits a smart flick with the riding cr
op that made them sting and bounce dangerously beneath her shirt. Her pussy got wetter. The woman then cupped Sadie’s breasts as though she was weighing them. ‘You’ll need proper coverage and support.’

  Ms Greuber turned and paced onward. ‘All residents will attend evening prayer. You’ll find it makes the nights easier. The dorm is in the South Wing. Your uniforms and new undergarments are on the foot of your beds. You will be unpacked, changed and in the chapel in one hour.’

  Trussed up in a knee-length pleated skirt of some scratchy synthetic fabric, a heavy cotton blouse, and a bra and knickers her grandmother would have found prudish, Sadie trudged off to the chapel, seriously thinking of running away, and she hadn’t even been here two hours.

  The chapel was hot and stuffy and full of sweaty female bodies dressed just like she was. She found a seat in the back and sat despondently while the organ blared something that wasn’t Bach. They had just stood for the processional when a dark-haired woman, breathing heavily, slipped into the pew next to her. She grabbed a hymnal, opened it, and moved close to Sadie, holding it up for her. ‘You’re new,’ she breathed. Sadie barely heard her over the voices, but there was no denying the feel of her warm breath against her ear, nor the way the woman brushed her small, pert breast against Sadie’s arm when she leant in to whisper, ‘I’m Carol.’ Her lips brushed Sadie’s earlobe.

  ‘I’m Sadie.’

  ‘Shortage of hymnals in the back rows,’ Carol said, holding the book open for Sadie to share.

  ‘I don’t sing,’ Sadie replied.

  Carol moved in closer. ‘Neither do I.’ She turned slightly, insinuating her breast against Sadie’s arm once more.

  ‘You’re not wearing a bra. I got in trouble for that.’

  ‘No knickers either,’ Carol whispered. ‘Want a feel?’

  Her proposition made Sadie forget all about broken rules. She pressed closer to Carol, pretending to be immersed in the words of the song. Slowly, carefully, she inched her fingers up Carol’s skirt until she felt her bare, silken thigh and saw her eyelids flutter and her breath catch. She was suddenly very thankful for the long, shapeless skirts. They made exploring easier, and the magnificent thigh was a promise of things to come. She felt Carol shift slightly, and she knew instinctively she was opening her legs just enough for Sadie to have a good feel.