Time after Time

Time after Time

by Kitt Wolf

I always notice my hands first. I’ll be clacking away on my computer when I notice the faint bluish tinge marring the normally creamy pink skin. The vein pushes its way to the surface a few days later and I find myself constantly rubbing at it, willing it to fade away. Panic gnaws at me and I know it’s once again time to make the decision between life or death. I have always chosen life so far. Nothing has made me think otherwise. When the choice is made, I know to start preparing.

Most of the things I need for the potion are easy to find: bits from the kitchen, my garden, the pond, and a lock of my hair. The main ingredient is a bit of challenge and something that weighs on my soul to collect. But I’ve seen what happens if the ritual isn’t completed. Sisters I have loved chose not to continue their practice. They fell deeply in love and allowed themselves to fade into stories that children tell to scare each other around the campfire. Witches do not go out from this life gracefully. If I decide to reverse the hands of time, I must become single once again and hunt for a new mate.

It’s not that I don’t love my husband. I do. I have for thirty years, but the passion that once fueled our partnership has wilted to fondness. I still swoon from his smile and adore the way that he looks at me in the morning, but raw heat gave way to comfort years ago. It felt like we could go on forever that way. Comfortable. At one time, I could see myself fading with him, but lately life has become quite dull. Then that damn blue vein decided to rear its ugly head and I felt pressure to make a choice. After the vein I know that sagging skin, spots, aches, grey hair in places that seem unspeakable, and pain will soon follow. Pain is not something I enjoy, well, outside of the bedroom. It’s lovely to be spanked, but it’s ridiculous to feel pain when I stand up from a chair. I’m not ready to age and wither and so I will go hunting for the final ingredient to reclaim my youth.

I need the full moon to slip on a guise to catch my prey. My husband usually passes out in his armchair by 8:00 while watching reruns of old game shows so it’s easy to slip out of the house on the evenings when the world is drenched in that milky magical light. The caressing light that spills from the sky soaks into my skin and revives me. Temporarily, my curves become defined, my hair becomes sleek and black, and that damned blue vein vanishes. I feel radiant. The first opportunities for a full moons I make sparse connections. I bed a few hapless men, but none of them feel right. They are all too full of themselves and not aware of the world. If I am to choose life, I must feel that connection and zing. Otherwise, the potion will be wasted.

I creep back home in the wee early morning hours reeking of men and stale cigarettes. My husband never notices. He carries on about his day and completes our rituals of greeting, comings and goings. We have the odd night of boring marital sex. He starts on top, wiggles his hips, flips me over and finishes with a grunt before falling into a deep sleep. I stare at the ceiling for hours wanting more and feeling the pull of the hunt.

This month, I leave my home for the full moon weekend under the guise of visiting a luxury spa. However, instead of being wrapped in mud and getting my nails done, I’m wrapping myself in other men’s arms and dragging my nails down their backs.

I check into my room and place a tall pink candle on the vanity. I encircle it in rose petals and arrange my crystals to open my mind to love. I strike a match and the flame greedily licks the wick. The dancing flames draw my gaze and focus my intention. A handsome face appears in the smoke and I close my eyes and deeply inhale. The image is faint but enough. I blow out the flame and prepare to hunt.

A few hours later, I’m sitting in the hotel bar wrapped in a tiny white dress that shows off my best assets. My tits peep over the top of the sweetheart neckline and delicate garters encircle my thighs with straps that disappear under my perilous hemline. Anyone who draws near would notice the heady sweet aroma of amber that I dabbed along my neck as I finished pulling my hair into a top knot.

I see the man from my vision enter the bar. He’s dreamy. His eyes crinkle when he smiles and his teeth practically chime with perfection. He’s with a group of men, but it will be easy enough to capture his attention. It looks like a business function. I chat with men at the bar but keep the undercurrent of attention on him. Finally, he walks over to order a drink. I drop my compact and the clatter makes him startle and look directly at me. I see him drink in all that I have put on display including the worried look about my mirror, a damsel in distress.

He picks the compact up from the floor and looks dismayed that the shiny surface has cracked. He makes a joke about seven years of bad luck and offers to buy me a drink. His hand touches mine and I give in to the pull of fate. We dance, drink, talk, and flirt. He’s charming and marvelous however my thoughts are laser focused on getting this man to bed.

Finally, we are stumbling to the elevator laughing. I press the button for my floor and at last, we are alone. I back him into the corner and kiss him hungrily. His lips feed the electric power building within me. I stroke his balls through his pants and he moans. They feel heavy. Perhaps, it’s been awhile since they have been emptied. His strong hands roam my body and squeezes my favorite soft spots. The doors open and we kiss while we walk towards my room. I fumble with the key card as he bites my neck while pressing his hard cock against my ass in front of the door. I feel my pussy spasm and I draw in a short breath. The light turns green and we quickly enter my room.

I drag him to the bed and we tumble with him on top. I snake my legs around him so that I can feel his cock strain against the thin layers of fabric between us. My pussy grinds against him until the front of his pants darkens from the wet of my want. I push him back so I can shimmy out of my panties, but leave my stockings and heels on. He shoves my dress down to reveal the puckered peaks of my round tits. He sucks hungrily and makes me writhe. He needs to take off his fucking pants so I can have that cock. I push him back harder this time and roll onto my belly. I frantically undo his belt and strip off his pants and finally his cock springs from his boxers. A pearl of creamy goodness teases me and I quickly dispatch it with a lick. I look to him for permission and he offers a nod before I take him deep in my throat. This is a cock that needs proper worship. My tongue drags along his shaft and I explore his thick ridge with sloppy sucks. I’m rewarded with another jolt of liquid. I wrap my fingers around his cock and lap in circles at his balls. They are too big to fit in my mouth, but I try anyway. I leave red lip prints in my wake marking my territory. His hand closes over mine and helps me find a rhythm as my mouth explores. My pussy drips in anticipation. I open my mouth to take him in my throat again. I like it rough. I move his hand to hold my hair and grab his ass as permission to go harder. He does not disappoint. With a guttural growl, he fucks my pretty face until my eyes are watering and I need to break the connection to breathe.

I gasp for a moment and then pull him down for a kiss. I hope he can taste himself on my lips. I wrap my legs around him again and dig the points of my heels into his calves. Just enough to make him feel it. I’m ready to take what I need.

He enters me swiftly and I feel myself stretch to accommodate his girth. I buck my hips up to milk his cock with slick strokes. A low growl rumbles from my lips, and I bite his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. He grabs my throat to pin me to the bed and slams his hips into me. I feel the power building within me, and I unleash a yowl while flipping him on his back. His face registers surprise at my sudden display of strength. I roll my hips to engulf his cock and rock back in forth with frantic rhythm. He takes one of my tits in his mouth, gentle at first, but then latches on like a wolf. I feel the pressure of his teeth and explode in orgasm. My pussy spasms as every cell in my body is lit up with pleasure. I keep fucking him as waves wash over over and I no longer feel anything, but release. I collapse, gasping, against his shoulder as he grabs my ass and pumps me full. I take it all.

I kiss him gently one more time before putting him to sleep. I touch his forehead and his face goes slack. I probably should have asked his name, but there will be time for that tomorrow. I adjust my dress and quickly head home.

Goosebumps pock my arms as I tiptoe into the dark sleeping house. The door clicks softly closed as I slip off my heels and pick my way across the chilly slate floor. I peel off my dress and drop it in a heap in the corner of my bedroom before sitting on my bed to remove the rest of my clothes. I retrieve the vial from my nightstand and take a long drink. My throat registers a bit of soreness from the thick cock that it accommodated just hours before. I feel the tingle begin to grow within my body.

My husband groans and rolls over in bed as I slide in next to him. His heat feels good against my naked skin, and he snakes a hand around my waist, pulling me into his embrace.

I turn and press my lips to his. He murmurs in his sleep. I press my naked body to his and sling a leg over his hip. The telltale sign of my marital indiscretion seeps from my swollen slit. I rub against him until he is taut with promise. I gently push him onto his back and straddle his sleeping form. His cock becomes coated in my lover’s cum as the transformation begins. I move my hips in slow circles to savor him one last time. I lean down for our last kiss and begin to drink his memories away. Painless for him but electric shivers course through my body as I relieve all of our moments together. I keep my lips firmly on his as his body gives me everything. I ride him slowly, squeezing his thick cock as I coax him to cum. It’s slow and sweet when he finally spills into me. My skin glows and I am renewed once more. When he wakes, our life together will be erased from his memory and any trace of me will be expunged from his life. I leave the house to steal back to my lover’s bed at the hotel. Perhaps a long life with this one will make me choose a different path when time begins to show on me once more.

This witchy prompt was from #FantasySmutFriday. Click below for more writers and more prompts from the ever imaginative Charlton Tod.

10 thoughts on “Time after Time

      1. Aw, man, I’m addicted! Would it surprise you if I said your writing left me uncomfortable? Not in a bad way, but erotica feels like a taboo subject for me. That’s weird, isn’t it? because I enjoy your writing. It’s not an area I would dare to write, I would do a lousy job in any case.

        Liked by 1 person

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