Kinetic Sorceress: Life Pt. 02byMagicif©
This is the second part of the story of Mia's and Paul's life together.
The next day, I quit my job.
Mia and I spent the remainder of the previous day brainstorming ideas about what we could or should do with our life together that would sufficiently respect and honor the gift we'd been given. When there is very little that you absolutely HAVE to do to survive in life, there is a moral obligation to devote your time to something meaningful. Mia has arguably one of the most powerful abilities in the history of, well, history and she had been generous with it to a fault. There was simply no chance that she could stop sharing her ability with the world in some way or other.
All of our basic needs were met, a thousand times over. In fact, pretty much any non-basic need or frivolous want could be met by Mia. There were literally billions of people in the world, however, who could not say the same. On the first day we met, Mia explained that her ability to manipulate and create positive energy had its limits. While the pool of such energy in the universe is limitless, she as a conduit and a vessel was not; I have seen her do mind-boggling feats of what appeared to the uninformed eye as pure magic but she is ultimately limited in scope by what she can control with her otherwise human mind and body. So, as potentially wonderful – or potentially catastrophic – as making wholesale changes to, for example, global climate change or military aggression night be, it was simply not within Mia's ability to effect those changes. So, to do the most good with what we had, we embraced the popular rallying cry: "Think Global, Act Local." What could we do right where we were to make life better for the deserving around us in addition to enjoying our own lives?
There was the added twist to the discussion that, unlike Mia who brings her awesome ability to the equation, I had no extraordinary abilities (unless you counted an MBA from a second tier business school as "extraordinary"). Mia never said it aloud but she knew that being the "faithful sidekick" to her "superhero" would become frustrating over time for me. As such, she consistently brought the conversation back around to what "we" could do, partners with a role to play. I had no illusion that mine would be an equivalent contribution but we both knew that I needed to be needed. I knew that Mia needed me, loved me, and would do anything to make me happy so we set about the task of finding a vocation for us that would:
1. Do some good for the world around us
2. Take advantage of Mia's abilities
3. Provide a meaningful role for me
4. Not expose Mia's abilities to the world
That last one was something I hadn't considered much until we started the whole conversation. If the world at large knew about Mia's ability, she'd be in instant danger that even she might not be able to handle. Unsavory types – which included governments – would want to use Mia's abilities to further their own agendas. Mia remembered all too vividly the pain she and her family endured when the people in her town learned of her ability. That was 400 years ago so at the time she was viewed as unholy, some kind of demon to be purged, but that didn't stop a few enterprising pricks from trying to take advantage of her. If that's what could happen 400 years ago, imagine what evil or cruelty was possible today. So, as if our task wasn't complicated enough, we had to find a way to share Mia's gift without letting the world know about Mia's gift. It still makes my brain hurt thinking about it.
By the end of that day, we had no clear answers about our mission in life, but we had worked out a few other issues in the process. First, we both agreed that it would be wrong for me to simply vanish from my current life, especially if we were going to try and do some good locally. I had no living family, but I still had some friends, mostly from work, with whom I wanted to stay in touch. I had been acting admittedly very odd during my early months with Mia and my friends had become concerned. I was, at one point or other, morbidly depressed, ecstatically happy, manic, nervous, and generally distracted. I had indicated to them that I had "met someone" but cagily explained that she lived out of town but traveled here a lot and thus deflected any of the "when do we meet her?" pressure. But that could not go on forever. I would have to integrate Mia into my other life – and how odd was it for me that my previous 30-plus years had become my "other" life? – but also change my circumstances so as not to arouse any undue suspicion.
We decided to create a facade life. We would explain that Mia was relocating here and moving in with me. I would keep my apartment so I continued to have a real address. Mia's identity in the world, and how she maintained it, was still something we hadn't discussed, but it was important for me to remain on-the-grid so keeping a physical address was important. We developed a very simple backstory that Mia had worked for a philanthropic organization, traveling the world evaluating grant requests; Mia had free reign to fill in whatever details she wanted and I could plausibly act like I was hearing her stories for the first time along with everyone else. There was very little effort required for us to keep our story straight.
The final piece of the puzzle would be the announcement that Mia was going to start a business. The entrepreneur bug had bitten her and so she was leaving her job and evaluating her options. And since I was so smitten with her and swept up in her enthusiasm, I was going to join her.
So, the day after that conversation, the start of the "what are we going to do together" plotting and planning, I went into work and quit my job. I don't think my employer was completely surprised, given the amount of time off I had been taking recently, but my friends were a bit taken aback. Especially when I told them about starting an as-yet undetermined business with Mia. I had not been known as much of a risk taker so they thought this was a bit out of character. I explained that Mia could be very persuasive (and how!) and that this was a great way for me to spend more time with her. I gave them the quick overview of our cover story and even promised them a dinner party at my apartment if they helped me move Mia in (which could easily be faked by Mia manifesting a truck full of clothes, girl furniture and knick-knacks). I then set about packing up my desk and headed out.
Ahhhh, Mia. Despite the fact that we had been very serious about avoiding undue attention to ourselves, she could not resist a bit of theatrics for the crowd. My two closest friends from work, Sam and Avery, helped me carry my personal items down to the curb and I would take a cab back to my apartment. No such luck. No sooner had we reached the street than a gleaming snow-white Bentley roared down the street and pulled up in front of me and my two slack-jawed friends. At the wheel of the Bentley was an inordinately large breasted redhead wearing a low cut blouse and oversized sunglasses. Her hair was teased a mile high and her lips and nails were a fire-engine red to match. Like the car, she was adorned in dazzling white.
"Hellooooo, Paul daaaarling!" she called over the thrum of the engine. "Mia wanted to meet you but she was detained so she asked me to come pick you up. Oh, I do hope there is room in the trunk for your boxes. I have just been shopping and, well, I went a little crazy."
"Oh, that's, uh, great. That Mia – she's so thoughtful," I replied to the vixen in the car. My two friends looked at me waiting for an explanation as well as an introduction. Ever the quick thinker, I said, "Uh ... guys, this is, uh ..."
Fortunately, Mia bailed me out. "I'm Mia's friend Monique. Lovely to meet you! Such handsome friends you have, Paul," at which she bit her lower lip and tipped her sunglasses down to reveal a pair of dazzling silver-flecked blue eyes. I could almost hear the erections developing in Sam's and Avery's pants.
The trunk popped open to reveal a variety of overflowing bags from the most expensive and trendiest boutiques in town. With a bit of creative packing we were able to get the boxes in and I closed the trunk and said my goodbye-for-now's to Sam and Avery. Mia, er, Monique decided that would be the perfect moment to get out and slink around to the back of the car. Her white skirt was short without being slutty and her white heels were, well, they were slutty. The effect was devastating. She slithered between me and my friends, and said over her shoulder as she passed, "Paul, be a dear and drive, won't you? I'm just so tired of driving this big beastly car." A cool breeze, heavy with expensive perfume, followed in her wake as she opened the passenger door, sat down, and made a show of swinging one, then the other, long perfectly toned leg into the car.
"Of course, Monique, if you insist," I replied. "See you soon guys. Thanks for your help." I made my way to the driver seat, settled in, and took one last look at the building that I had worked in for years. And what I saw was about a dozen faces at the window all gawking at the siren in the zillion dollar sports car. Mia can be such a tease when she wants to be.
I popped the clutch and sped off, many pairs of eyes following until I reached the corner and turned out of sight.
"Well, I couldn't let you get picked up in a rusty old hatchback, could I?" Monique/Mia asked with mock innocence.
"I suppose not," I growled. "But I have a feeling that I am going to get pestered by Sam and Avery about when they might get to see Monique again."
Mia laughed, quite pleased with herself. "Well, you can tell them that Monique was visiting from out of town. Besides, they really don't want to have anything to do with her. She's a bit of a tease." Her tone then turned more serious. "Are you OK? I imagine that leaving your job was a bit bittersweet. That's part of why Monique came to get you. A little distraction, a friendly – if slightly slutty – face to greet you."
"I'm fine," I answered truthfully. "The people meant more to me than the job and since we're going to keep those people in our lives, there is not a lot to miss. Knowing that I'll be doing something more meaningful with my life makes walking away very easy. Even if we haven't figured out what that is. It'll take me a little while to get my head around not showing up there every day but I really won't miss it."
"Good, I'm happy to hear that." Mia paused, and then asked in a forced casual voice, "Would you like to go for a drive? It's a beautiful day."
My new Rule No.1 in life is when Mia makes a suggestion, go with it. "Sure," I replied. "Why not? Enjoy the breeze, soak in the sun, clear my head."
"Clear your head," Mia purred. "Exactly what I was thinking."
Mia had reached into her handbag and removed a small mirror and was now making a big show of checking her hair and face. I should have known something was up immediately, since neither Mia's hair nor face ever needs checking since every shade and strand of her look stays exactly as she wishes at all times. If I was a bit slow on the uptake, Mia's intentions became very clear when I felt my zipper begin to lower itself. The flap on my boxers then miraculously spread open and a warm tingle began spreading through my groin. "Clear my head" indeed.
A self-satisfied smile crossed Mia's bright red lips. She put her mirror back in her bag, happy that her ambush had worked, and turned her head to stare out the window as we passed over the river, out of the city, and on to the highway out of town. Back at my crotch, the cool breeze and the warm tingle made for an interesting and not at all unpleasant sensation. As might well be expected if one is sitting with one's fly open next to a gorgeous redhead who just magically unzipped said fly, her perfume filling your nostrils despite the wind rushing overhead, an erection began. And continued in earnest. Any passing truck would have been treated to the sight of a man with a raging boner sticking out of his pants and a woman looking out the window completely ignoring him. Fortunately, there were no trucks around. And fortunately for me, she did not ignore me for long. Without shifting her gaze from out the window, Mia casually stretched out her hand and placed it in my lap, with my erect penis between but not touching her thumb and forefinger. With the tiniest of movements she started to gently rub her long blazing red thumbnail against the edge of my shaft.
Sometimes, the lightest touch can be the most erotic. With the just the tip of her thumbnail, Mia grazed up and down the base of my cock, driving me crazy. Sometimes straight up and down, sometimes with a slight circular motion, always gently, barely there but oh so arousing. After a few miles of aimless driving (for me) and casual massaging (by Mia), she slid her thumb up my shaft and began the same light teasing touch just below the head of my penis. Mia knows well the profound pleasure that can be imparted by hitting that sweet spot just below the head. Her thumbnail orbited that spot, coming tantalizingly close but never quite settling on it.
If you have never had a handjob while driving, I can tell you it leaves you in a bit of a quandary. On the one hand (heh), it feels great, as you might expect. A well-executed handjob is a thing of beauty and Mia was an expert. Between her sensitivity to changes in energy in response to her touch, her ability to augment the sensation by pouring pure sexual energy into the mix, and just her genuine desire to make her partner feel as good as possible, she could do things with one finger that the most experienced courtesan would have trouble achieving with her whole body.
On the other hand (heh – never gets old), there is the small matter of concentrating on the road and not getting yourself and your passenger killed as a result of a momentary lapse in focus. I knew in my heart that Mia would never let us get wrapped around a tree or, worse, cause an accident where another might be harmed. Still, driving two and half tons of steel at highway speed demands your attention. I resisted the urge to just relax, throw my head back, and be swept away by the pleasure that Mia was weaving around me.
Maintaining that attention got significantly more difficult when she stopped avoiding my sweet spot and landed the pad of her thumb directly on it and started a circular pulsing massage. After the initial shock – which caused an unintended swerve by me a and barely suppressed chuckle from Mia – I was treated to a luscious build-up of excitement beneath Mia's talented thumb. It can be debated whether the most pleasurable sensation in any sexual act is the period of foreplay and stimulation, the orgasm itself, or that moment of sublime pleasure in between when you are teetering on the brink, knowing that your climax is imminent and feeling it push you over the edge. I wouldn't spend a lot of time debating that because they are all wonderful sensations. But I, personally, am a big fan of that in-between moment, that needle sharp feeling as the pre-climax is spreading across you just before release begins.
Mia held me in that in-between for what felt like an hour, but was only a few seconds. When at last she was ready to let me cum, I heard her say, "Eyes on the road, lover." The need for her admonition was suddenly very clear as in one smooth movement she leaned over, swooped in, and nestled my cockhead between her luscious red lips. And I exploded. To my credit, I kept us on the road. But there was a few seconds there where I was very glad that the road was straight and the alignment on the Bentley was perfectly adjusted. I felt myself pouring into Mia's mouth, which was providing just enough suction to encourage my release, but not enough to rush or force it. She was letting me cum, rather than making me cum. And it was glorious.
My orgasm eventually subsided and when she was satisfied that I was thoroughly drained, Mia sat up and licked her lips like a cat that had just drained a saucer of milk. "That was close," she said. "Semen is soooo hard to get out of the upholstery." At which point we both started laughing. Mia's invisible helping hands thoughtfully guided my rapidly deflating penis into my boxers, closed the flap and pulled my zipper up, any evidence of Mia's ministrations covered and swallowed.
"I'm hungry," Mia declared.
"Still?" I quipped, earning me a jab in the ribs.
"Ha, ha, very funny. Yes, still. Monique cannot live on sperm alone!"
Again we laughed and I guided the Bentley along the roads and by-ways toward "our" spot – a small diner on County Road 19. The diner had special meaning for us. On the day we met, I helped Mia change a flat tire on her car while I was out on a bike ride. Later that day, I saw her again at the diner; I didn't know at the time she had been waiting for me there and it was there that I first experienced the amazing sexual magic she was capable of. Happy memories.
As we pulled into the parking lot, the Bentley transformed into the late model hatchback that Mia had been driving when I fixed her flat. "Monique" disappeared, replaced by my beloved Mia, wearing jeans, boots, and a loose fitting t-shirt. She was still stunning, just not so over-the-top. Our preferred booth in the back was open and we slid in and waited for the waitress to take our order. Two iced teas, a turkey club (me) and spinach omelet (her) later and we were happily stuffed and deep in discussion.
"I have an idea for what we can do, Paul," Mia said with excitement in her voice. I was all ears. "I'll describe it and you tell me when you figure out what it is. That's how I discovered it; I thought about all of the characteristics we wanted our enterprise to have and when I lined them all up, an idea popped out."
"We want to help people, make them feel better. We want me to be able to absorb, amplify and share energy. We want to be able to interact with people, have a life in the world and not live in secret. We want to give the appearance that we are a functioning organization or business so as to not arouse suspicion. We want there to be a meaningful role for you, that takes advantage of your talents."
I nodded. These were all things we had discussed as important.
"OK," she went on, "what kind of businesses do people frequent to feel better? Where does someone go to get re-energized? What kind of business could we open that would not appear excessively expensive to launch and attract undue attention? Where could we employ like-minded people and have some discretion over who we serve? Where would a person walk out of feeling like they'd just been pumped full of positive energy and not feel strange about it?"
In hindsight, I should have been able to guess, but in my defense it was not the kind of establishment that I have ever frequented myself. So, there I sat with a blank look on my face. Mia was a bit deflated, clearly hoping that I would have come to the same conclusion that she had. Nevertheless, her enthusiasm would not be dampened by my cluelessness so after an awkwardly long pause waiting for me to say something intelligent, she answered her own question.
"A spa! A day spa. An oasis from the daily grind. People come to relax and be pampered and they get a big dose of positive energy as part of the service." Mia was positively beaming.
My initial reaction was that while it was a good idea, there were some kinks that needed to be worked out.
"I think that's a good idea, but there are some kinks that need to be worked out," I said.
"Of course, of course," Mia said excitedly, "that's why I need to talk this out with you. You have the practical vision. Together we'll identify the problems up front and deal with them." She grabbed my hand from across the table and squeezed. I could feel the energy she was putting off just from her touch. She was fired up. "So tell me. You think it's a good idea." I nodded. "What are the kinks? Hit me."