I Put a Spell on You

"You work a lot on yourself, don't you?" he asked, as his hand ran up and down her thigh, the other still teasing her clit deliciously. "The gym every morning, hair salon every month, nail salon every week. Not to mention your spa trips for sugar scrubs and wraps, whatever the hell that is. You certainly keep your assistant busy scheduling all your waxings and whatnot." Taylor wasn't sure if that was a compliment, either. Something in Brandt's tone of voice told her it wasn't. "Maybe if you worked as hard at the office as you do on yourself, you wouldn't have to steal other people's work and pass it off as your own." Taylor wanted to protest, but didn't know what to say, in part because she knew he was right, and it part because she was afraid if she talked back, he'd stop the delicious circles he was making around her hardening clit as his other hand slid down to the wet spot between her legs and began probing the opening.

Two more apartments had noticed the show he was putting on for them now: another couple and a group of four guys who had been watching a football game before they noticed the action closer at hand. Brandt slid his middle and ring fingers deep into the tight slot between Taylor's legs, finding her g-spot and making sure he slid across it as he moved and out, never stopping the pressure he was putting on her clit. He had to speak louder to make sure she could hear him over her moans. "It's a nice show you are putting on for the neighbors." Taylor's hands flew up to cover her breasts. Brandt laughed. "Yes, you wouldn't want them to see your tits. It might distract them for the panoramic view of your cunt. Keep your hands there. Why don't you show them what sexy tits money can buy. I want you to play with your nipples. I bet you like it a little rough. Pull on them for the nice people watching, Taylor. Twist them and pinch them." Taylor was powerless to do anything but follow his instructions. Every time he spoke, she felt the necklace pulsing against her skin like a second heartbeat, willing her to obey him. If that weren't enough, she had never been finger-fucked so thoroughly or expertly.

"Oh yes, so good," she whimpered. "I'm going to come. Oh, I'm going to come." Her taut stomach muscles tightened as she lifted her ass off the chair trying to get his hand further into her tight, wet cunt. Trying to increase the pressure on her hard clit. "Oh, I'm going to come. Please, don't stop." She was pulling furiously on her nipples now, pinching them so tightly that the tips turned white, then deep red when she released for a second, the blood flowing back into them. "Oh, I can't stop. I can't stop, I'm going to come." She could hear the slapping of his hand against her body as he forced his way up into her cunt, keeping up the pressure on her g-spot and clit. She was wailing now, grinding into his hand and clawing at her own breasts as she moved closer and closer to the coming orgasm, until, with a shudder and a wail, she spasmed hard, coming in gasping breaths, the walls of her cunt clamping down on Brandt's hand. Brandt waited a moment until the convulsion stopped, then stood up, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor.

"I'll meet you in the bedroom. And I could use a fresh drink."

Brandt had thrown a black silk chemise across the bed. He took the heavy crystal lowball glass from Taylor's hand. "Put that on," he gestured at the nightie. "And get your lube out."

"I don't think I'll need any lube," Taylor began.

"I want you to think even less than I want you to talk. Just get the lube." Brandt glanced at the clock. 8:45 p.m. The spell had been in place since about noon, and by early tomorrow morning it would be totally spent. Like a clock running down, its power was already ebbing. It would make the next few hours interesting.

Brandt stripped, folding his clothes neatly and hanging them over the back of a chair as Taylor sat watching him from the bed, one foot tucked up underneath her, the other dangling over the edge of the bed. She felt nervous. Brandt was moving so slowly, so methodically. She wasn't used to a man who wasn't tripping over himself to share her bed.

"Get on your hands and knees on the bed," Brandt ordered, as he tossed the bottle of lube down next to her. His cock jutted out in front of him, like a weapon. She scrambled to get into position and felt the bed creak and move as Brandt moved up behind her. He rested his glass in the small of her back, the base of it cool and damp through the thin fabric of her chemise. "Ah, I've finally found a use for you." Even as he spoke so snidely, he was rubbing the velvety head of his cock between her lips, still puffy and swollen from her earlier orgasm. Without warning, he split her, all of him sliding fully into her grasping cunt, then pulling out and plunging in again, only stopping now and again to take a drink of his bourbon, the ice clinking against the glass before he rested it again on her back and restarted his assault.

The phone rang and then chirped mechanically, "Phone call . . . from . . . Steve Delcroix."

"Oh shit," Taylor exclaimed. "I was supposed to meet Steve at a Halloween party."

"Well, since you are standing him up, you should at least have the good manners to let him know." Brandt pulled his cock back, then plunged deep into her for her emphasis. "Tell him your calendar got unexpectedly . . . filled up." She moaned as his cock pressed hard against her g-spot, but pulled it together enough to answer the phone and rush out her excuses, even as Brandt continued sliding in and out of her desire-slicked cunt. She heard the bourbon glass, now empty, hit the floor, and the cap to the lube flip open.

The slippery liquid dripped from the bottle and onto the crack of Taylor's ass. Brandt didn't speak as he continued fucking her slowly, while circling the tight brown ring of her asshole with his thumb. Taylor started to protest as he pressed into the virgin territory, but felt that same feeling she had when she first put on the pendant. Like a cat in heat she arched her back and pushed her ass up toward Brandt's hand, then reached back with her hands and spread her cheeks wantonly.

The heat of Taylor's ass engulfed him as he slowly plumbed it with his thumb, getting her used to the feel of something pushing into that tight little hole. From the sounds she was making, it seemed that she was getting used to it very quickly. "You like that, don't you?" he teased, although it was clear from her ragged breath that she did. "Rub your clit while I finger your ass, you spoiled little brat. This must be quite the change from having your ass kissed." He punctuated his comment with a hard smack on her ass.

Taylor released one of her cheeks and slid her hand between her legs and found her clit, stroking it in time to Brandt's slow thrusts with his two fingers, which had replaced his thumb, stretching her tight hole wider and wider. "Turn over, Taylor," he instructed. "We'll both be able to get at what we want more easily." When she did, he grabbed her by the legs and pulled her ass to the edge of the bed.

"Keep rubbing that clit, Taylor," he told her as he drizzled more lube across his cock, and spread it with his hand. "Keep rubbing that little clit. Together we're going to make you come so hard you'll see stars." Taylor felt him enter her again, thrusting once, twice, three times into her cunt as she rubbed her clit. Then he withdrew, leaving her wanting and empty.

"Please, be inside me," she begged.

"Oh, I will," he promised, but the look on his face held an edge of menace. Taylor felt his cockhead slide down from her cunt, and press against her ass. He grabbed her legs and pushed them up, almost folding her in half. Her eyes flew open and she looked him in the face, convinced for just a second that he was just teasing her, then equally convinced that he planned to fill her virgin ass with his cock. She didn't want it, had turned down countless pleas to be the first to explore that territory, but at the same time she remembered the delicious feelings of his fingers in her ass and wondered if his cock would feel as good or better. The clock was ticking down, slowing, but between Brandt's magic and her own desire, she was powerless to say no.

"I'll go slow," she heard him say as he leaned into her, the well-lubed head of his cock breaching her tight sphincter muscle. He rocked slightly in that position, not pushing deeper, just getting her used to the feel, letting her ass relax slightly before he pushed in deeper. Something in her told her she wasn't that kind of girl, but the objection was overridden by the sensations coursing through her body, the need she felt to rub her clit. Brandt pushed forward again, and she could feel his legs press against her ass, his cock as deep into her as it could possibly go. Their eyes met again and she knew, and knew he knew, she could refuse him nothing.

"Fuck my ass, Brandt," she breathed out. He didn't tell her that he didn't want her to talk, just grasped her legs firmly and fucked her tight hole. Sliding the full length of his shaft in and out of her as she rubbed her clit and babbled, only occasionally saying anything coherent. "Come in me," that he heard loud and clear. "Fill my ass with your cum. You know I need it. Put your cum in my ass," those were certainly intelligible sentences. "I'm gonna come so hard when you fill my ass." She was making all the sense in the world now as he thrust his dick deep into her, the sensations of being clasped so tightly in the heat of her ass only magnified by her pleas to be fucked deep and hard. He couldn't hold back for much longer, and her wail that she was coming pushed him over the edge, filling her with what she had been begging for.

When they had both finished, Brandt flipped a blanket over her and went into the bathroom for a shower. When he finished, Taylor was passed out in an exhausted sleep.

She slept on as Brandt dressed and let himself quietly out the door, giving a nod to the doorman, who answered with a knowing wink. He walked in the dark, cool night toward the subway station, flipping open his phone to leave a message for the headhunter who had been pursuing him for months. "Hey, Clay. It's Brandt. I've thought about it, and you're right. It is time to move on."