tagErotic HorrorValentine Fortuneteller is a Witch

Valentine Fortuneteller is a Witch

bySuperHeroRalph©

This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote.

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A witch of a fortuneteller tricks a man to be her sexy Valentine.

The day before Valentine's Day, I was invited to my friend's house for dinner. As we all hung out together, all my friends were there, as a Valentine's Day party, especially for the kids. I figured they were trying to set me up with someone, but it was just dinner. That is, until they gave me a Valentine's Day gift.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Ralph," said my friend, Dave.

All my friends were grouped together and laughing. Knowing they were up to something, the butt of their practical jokes, every holiday it's the same stupid stuff. None of them have matured any since high school. Still, all in good fun, it's a good thing that I have a sense of humor.

"What's this? You bought me a Valentine's Day card," I said with a nervous laugh. Unless you're gay, guys don't buy guys Valentine's Day cards. I opened the card and there was a gift certificate inside. "Gee thanks, I said, "I think."

"You're welcome," said Bob laughing.

They were all laughing and I knew it was another one of their practical jokes. After they have given me a phony lottery ticket, thinking I had won the big jackpot, they told me it was a joke, before I embarrassed myself by going down to lottery headquarters.

"Is this even valid gift certificate?"

"Maybe she'll help you find your love match," said Dave with a laugh that made all my other friends laugh, too.

No doubt, knowing the practical jokers they are, my friends thought they were funny when they all pitched in to buy me a one hundred dollar gift certificate to see a fortuneteller for Valentine's Day for me to find love. They thought it was a joke and funny that I didn't even have a girlfriend, when they are all married with children. Maybe they're just jealous that I'm a carefree bachelor, albeit one who doesn't get any action because I'm always working.

They thought they'd have some teasing fun at my expense. No doubt, they hoped that I'd not only go to the fortuneteller to use my gift certificate but also that I'd find love in the process for them to tease me about the one special someone I found, that is, if I found anyone at all. It's impossibly difficult to find love, especially in one day and on, of all days, Valentine's Day, just as it's preposterous to think that I'd find love through a fortuneteller. The black and white, anal, scientific kind of guy that I am, they know that I only believe in what can be explained by science.

They know that I don't believe in witches, warlocks, the occult, Ouija boards, tarot cards, palm reading, tea leaf reading, crystal balls, and fortunetellers. There's no such thing as good or bad omens, demons, devils, Satan, and Hell, as well as Angels, God, and Heaven. Just as I don't believe in fate, destiny, kismet, and love at first sight, I don't give any credibility to science fiction accounts, UFO's, aliens, and alien abductions.

Once you're dead, you're dead. I don't believe there are ghosts, spirits, and haunted houses, reincarnation, life after death, out of body experiences, past lives, supernatural spirits, and déjà vu. At first thinking it was a joke, after they had their little joke and left, I threw the gift certificate in the trash.

There was just no way that I'd give them more ammunition to tease me; they have plenty already. Strangely enough, as if drawn to it, I picked the gift certificate out of the trash, looked at it, and wondered about it. Certainly, I believe in coincidences and it was nothing more than a coincidence that I had the day off from work and that the fortuneteller had an opening to tell my fortune.

Celebrating yet another holiday alone, Valentine's Day, after spending Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's with the bunch of my practical joking friends, their wives and their children, I was damn if I was going to spend my next Valentine's Day without a woman. Tired of being the fifth wheel, I've tried everything else, matchmaking friends and relatives, blind dates, online dating services, pickup bars, and singles dances, why not suspend my sense of disbelief and give fortunetelling a try. What did I have to lose? Thinking of it as no more than entertainment, maybe having my fortune told would amuse me. Admittedly, I was a little curious to know if there was anything to this fortunetelling, palm reading, and tea leaf reader.

When I called late morning, she said she had an opening that afternoon. I didn't tell any of my friends where I was going for fear they'd laugh at me. Only, feeling alone and so lonely, willing to try anything to find my dream woman, I was feeling a little desperate for love. If this fortuneteller could tell me if there was anything in her tarot cards for a love connection in time for next Valentine's Day, it was worth the effort. Besides, being that I already had the hundred buck gift certificate, my visit with her wouldn't cost me anything but my time.

I sat out front in my car debating if I was going to keep my appointment with the fortuneteller. I felt foolish. I picked up the gift certificate and examined it. As if the energy in that inanimate piece of paper was electrically charge, it moved me to take action. Suddenly, something I never felt before, I felt a bit psychic.

With a nagging feeling that something was about to happen, even though I had yet to meet her, I had a hunch that this fortuneteller was the real McCoy. Before I even came here, saw where her place of business was, a week before my friends even gave me the Valentine's card and gift certificate to the fortune teller, I had a dream, actually, more a nightmare, about going inside and talking with a fortuneteller. Dreaming that I was put under a trance, while being stripped naked and forced to have sex with her, was something out of the movie Rosemary's Baby with Mia Farrow, and something I knew would never happen.

Nonetheless, weirdly surreal, the premonition that I was now living or about to live my nightmare was beyond my sense of belief and scope of comprehension. Not believing in such things, I didn't know what to do with the emotions that I was suddenly feeling. I saw flashes of a woman's naked body, her tits, and her pussy, while she stroked, fondled, and sucked my cock, before mounting me and fucking me. Normally, that would have been an erotic dream to have, a fantasy, while masturbating, but the woman in the dream was decrepitly old, as old as the dead woman in The Shining with Jack Nicholson. What the Hell was that about? Maybe it was just something I ate.

Never having had had my fortune told, I didn't know what to expect. Is it all good that she tells those she reads or if she saw bad, would she tell me that, too? That day, after I made my appointment to see her, I read my horoscope for the first time ever. I never read my horoscope before, yet, for some inexplicable reason, I had the need to read my astrological forecast now.

'Your true love is close at hand. Love at first sight, a strange woman will help you to find true love. Open your heart to love and you will find it.'

Love at first sight? That would have been encouraging for someone else, but I didn't believe in love at first sight, not for a second. Yet, I wondered about what the horoscope meant by a strange women. Was it a woman who is a stranger to me or is it a strange women who is weird. What does that even mean? Who was the woman? Was the woman who would help me to find love the fortuneteller or was the woman the one that I'd meet? After having that Rosemary Baby dream, I just hoped that the strange woman in my horoscope wasn't one in the same, as the woman who was telling my fortune.

Still sitting out front in my parked car, even though I didn't believe in any of this mumbo jumbo, I still took the time to question and wonder about the premonition of my nightmare, while trying to logically rationalize somehow and understand the coincidence of my friends giving me a gift certificate to the fortuneteller. It was just too weird. Nevertheless, desperate for love, I so wanted to believe in the magic of Valentine's Day, Cupid, and love and romance, but my rational and logical mind wouldn't allow me to suspend my sense of disbelief to open my heart to love. Instead, what I felt was a strong feeling of déjà vu, as if I had been here before.

Even though I never met the woman and had never been inside her place of business, when I closed my eyes, I could see the fortuneteller and the inside of the room, where'd I be sitting. This was all beginning to feel too creepy weird to me. I got out of my car and walked inside. As soon as I entered, I wanted to leave, but I couldn't get myself to leave. Compelled to stay, I was already here and, since I had already made the appointment and had the gift certificate, I stayed.

I tried everything else to find true love, why not this? Even if I didn't believe any of what she'd tell me, I was compelled to have her tell me my fortune. Not wanting to believe there was something to this fortunetelling crap, I relented.

"Hi," I said, offering her my hand. "I have an appointment."

Frightening terrifying, as if I had dreamt all of this and was suddenly experiencing déjà vu, she was just as I had imagined her to be and the room looked exactly the same, as it did in my nightmare. This is just too weird. I had a premonition that I should run from this place, but as if my feet were glued to the floor, I couldn't move. Suddenly, the last stanza of the Eagles song, the Hotel California played through my mind.

Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before. "Relax," said the night man. "We are programmed to receive. You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave!"

Being here was against everything I believed in or didn't believe in and to suspend my feelings of disbelief for love was a huge leap of faith, but if it was what I must do to find love, willing to try anything, I was willing to do have my fortune told.

Forcing myself not to question it and analyze it to death, I made myself believe. Maybe, because it was Valentine's Day, this special day of love and romance, that will be the magical ingredient that I need for her to bring forth my dream woman. Just as I thought that, I chastised myself for thinking it. Caught up in the atmosphere of the occult, I couldn't help but believe in it. There was something magically mystical and mysterious about this room and this woman.

In my dream she was, just as she is, old and haggard. Hunched over and walking slowly with a cane, I wondered how old this woman was. Suddenly, I remembered a line from my nightmare, old haggardly Hazel, the harmless town witch, welcomed to tease the future with experiences from the past. No longer believing that she was just an innocuous fortuneteller, was I being forewarned that she's a witch? Nah, that's ridiculous. There's no such thing as witches and witchcraft, is there?

"Come, come," she said. "I'm Hazel," she said.

She floored me, when she said her name, the same name I dreamt. Fuck me, I thought to myself. Her name is Hazel. Am I suddenly psychic? What are the odds that I'd dream of a fortuneteller named Hazel, who was really a witch in my dream? Now from dream to reality, here I am standing with a woman named Hazel, who looks more like a witch than a fortuneteller. Until my psychic dream of a nightmare, until meeting her in person, I thought all fortunetellers looked like Gypsies.

Coincidence or premonition, whatever it was, I was out of my scientific, anal element. Defenseless against the unknown, suddenly feeling as if I was Hansel in the Brothers Grimm Hansel and Gretel story, I was willingly accepting my fate and giving myself to a wicked witch to be slaughtered. God help me.

"Please to meet you," I said. "I'm Ralph."

She gave me a look from out of the corner of her eye that reminded me of the look of a wild animal before attacking or a villain eying his innocent prey. Then, in the way that she continued to stare at me, leering at every part of me, as if I was naked, she made me feel that she was undressing me with her eyes. Eww. Gross.

I felt so dirty. I haven't felt so violated, since my friend, Brad's 75-year-old grandmother pulled down my bathing trunks in the pool and grabbed my cock, when he went inside to go to the bathroom. I was so grossed out, when Brad's grandmother trapped me in the pool, kissed me, and stuck her tongue in my mouth. Eww. Gross.

Now, I was having the same sense with this woman. I tried to remember my dream in hopes of knowing what happens next. Only, I couldn't remember anything in advance. I could only remember what happened, as it happened. Then, once the present became the past, that's when it was all so familiar. Is that déjà vu? Why am I experiencing that now?

"Let's go in back," she said.

She locked the front door and the sound that the lock made echoed in my mind, as if it was my last warning buzzer to get out and flee now. Instead of leaving, I followed her in back. Except for one flickering candle, that partially lit up the space where we were, the room was dark.

We sat opposite one another at a small round table. I was more than a bit nervous to be alone with this old woman. Normally, except for my friend's horny grandmother, I wouldn't be afraid of being alone with an elderly woman, but she was so gargoyle like in appearance and weirdly creepy in her mannerisms that she frightened me. There was something about her that was just so scary and I couldn't help but feel that she wasn't who she professed to be, especially after receiving that foreboding warning nightmare. Only, just as I didn't believe and discounted everything else, I didn't put any stock in my nightmare, other than I ate something foul to give me that bad dream.

Then, when I expected her to read my palm, offer me tea to read my tea leaves, or deal out the tarot cards, she did none of those. She removed a scarf that covered her crystal ball, looked at me, and smiled.

"Give me your hand," she said. Expecting her to read my palm, she said, "both of them." As soon as she held my hands, as if completing an electric current, I felt connected to her and couldn't let go.

Bony and wrinkled, her hands felt so old. She gazed deeply in to the glass orb, while holding both my hands. That's when I noticed a change in her hands. Suddenly, they felt younger and not as bony and wrinkled. As if she was wearing an old woman's costume complete with wrinkled skin but for her hands, she suddenly had young looking hands. Maybe it was the dim light, lighting is everything in a movie, a real metamorphosis, but she appeared as if she was changing before my eyes.

The globe was so brilliantly clear that I could see my reflection in it, but then, as soon as she gazed into it, the sphere clouded over. It appeared as if there was a tropical storm brewing inside. Trying to explain what I saw with science, logic, and commonsense, I figured her crystal ball was plugged into an outlet and was no more than a lava type of a lamp with smoke instead of lava. Only, I couldn't see a wire. Perhaps, her crystal ball works on batteries and there's an on/off switch somewhere beneath the table.

She was eerily quiet, while gazing in her crystal. Compressing her wrinkled skin into a gleeful smile, her eyes twinkled with excitement, before widening with amazement, as the mysteries of my life, my past, my present, and my future appeared to her.

"Close your eyes," she said.

Immediately, I obeyed, that is, after opening them a few times to see what she was doing. Not trusting her, I figured she'd lift my wallet. Yet, how could she do that, if she was holding both my hands?

I watched as she fell into a trance. Then, lifting her head and losing her smile, she had a look that was cold and distant. I had seen enough. She was scaring me and even though I was frightened, I somehow now trusted her enough to close my eyes and keep them closed.

I don't remember all of what she said to me. Only, as if I was cast in a love spell, when I left there, I felt lighter. I was proudly happy that I was walking with a beautiful woman, my dream woman.

I don't know where she came from and if asked I couldn't explain how we met. All I knew was that I loved her. Besides, after looking at the beautiful woman standing beside me, gazing in her eyes, why on Earth would I ever again question fate, kismet, and my destiny when, in love at first sight, I had finally found love?

I had lost track of time and even though the hour was late, it was still Valentine's Day, so I invited her home to my house. Never have I kissed a woman as much. I couldn't wait to strip her naked and when I did, never have I seen a woman with a better body. The most beautiful woman on Earth, she was incredible and all the woman that I'd ever want.

Never have I enjoyed licking a woman's pussy as much. Then, after she made me hard with her mouth, we made love. We had hours of deep, penetrating, hot sex. Love at first sight, totally in love, I was happier than I've ever been.

She stayed with me overnight and, the next day, when I showed my new girlfriend off to my friends, they were all so jealous that they just stared at her with their mouths open. Who could blame them, when I had someone like her on my arm? Hey, they were the ones who gave me the gift certificate. They have no one to blame but themselves for hooking me up with my hot woman and the love of my wife.

"Have you seen Ralph's new girlfriend?"

"Yeah," said my friend, Bob, to my friend, Dave, "who is she?"

"Hazel?

"Who's Hazel?"

"She's the fortuneteller we sent him to see," said Dave.

"Hazel, the fortuneteller is his new girlfriend? I thought she was his grandmother. I had no idea he was into older women," said Bob.

"When I first met her, I thought she was Brad's grandmother."

"Nah, Brad's grandmother's name is Helen," said Dave. "Besides, Hazel is way older than Brad's grandmother."

*

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