Bella and The Amulet of Nuzaleft 03

Pt. 3: A Consummation Devoutly to Be Wished

When I get home, Claire is sitting at the common room table, tugging at her curly red hair as she stares at a laptop screen. Based on the open notebook next to her and the graphing calculator besides the laptop, I guess that she's working on her statistics homework. She has her headphones on and doesn't notice me enter, but I hear her mutter "a double smoothing model would probably be a better projection here, since the single smoothing only shows a horizontal line" before scribbling something in her notebook. I don't understand a fucking word.

"Hey Claire!" I yell as I walk past her into the kitchen. With a start Claire pulls off her headphones and I can hear the heavy drone of her music across the room. Claire and I met at a heavy metal themed bar last year and quickly bonded over our mutual love for heavy music. After a year of hanging out, studying together, and becoming close friends, it made sense to rent an apartment together rather than look for a random roommate in the fall.

"Oh hey, Belle," says Claire. "How was work? You join the coven yet?"

"Yup," I respond sarcastically. "And we're sacrificing a virgin tonight, so don't be late."

I doge the crumpled up paper chucked my way. "Speaking of," I say, re-emerging from behind the kitchen counter, "don't you have a date tonight with Greg?"

Claire sighs and says "if I can get this homework done. I told Greg to meet me here at 8 and this is at least 4 hours of work."

"When's it due, Claire?"

"Friday," says Claire, sheepishly. She always treats weeklong deadlines like they're due the next day.

I start weighing out some dark roasted beans, preparing to make an afternoon cup of coffee, and say "fuck that! You've got two hours before your date and four days before the assignment is due. Go get ready!"

"You're right, as usual, Bella," admits Claire before closing her laptop and scooping her things off the table. "But if I have to rush the assignment because of this, I'm gonna kill you."

I chuckle to myself as I grind the coffee beans, taking the boiling kettle off the stove. Claire may have a date tonight, but I do not. What I do have is an essay on stages of identity development due tomorrow that I haven't started yet.

An hour and a half later I'm up to the identity moratorium portion of my essay and Claire emerges from her room. She's wearing a grey, tight fitting sweater, which accentuates her D cup breasts, tucked into a black, pleated skirt which falls just above her knees. She's got on a pair of black boots that come up to her kneecaps, leaving her toned thighs as the only exposed piece of skin below her neck. Her lips are painted a dark red and she has on mascara, which I don't think I've ever seen her wear before. Her red hair is neatly curled and falls to her shoulders. She looks gorgeous.

"Do I look alright?" she asks me.

"George won't know what hit him," I answer, noticing her smile at my approval. "Where is he taking you?"

"Were gonna get dinner at The Menagerie and then see that new science fiction movie.

"The Menagerie? Sounds fancy. He must have something special planned," I say with a wink.

We chat for a bit about the movie, and about plans for the weekend until Claire's phone buzzes. "That's him!" She exclaims, her face lighting up. "We might hang out here tonight for a bit after the movie, but we won't be back until pretty late."

I give Claire a knowing nod and say "have fun, call me if you need anything. I'll be out of your way by the time you get back."

Claire leaves for her date and I have the apartment to myself. I pull the two pouches from my purse. The "Vivid Dreams" pouch is tied with a purple string and the "Mind-Blowing Sex" pouch is tied with a red string. I drop the two pouches into a paper bag and give them a shake to mix them up. I carry the bag to Claire's room, which I notice she's taken the time to straighten up a bit, and walk over to her bed. I try to follow Malory's instructions and focus my intensions on the bags. I figure if I do an intention for both, whichever one I end up using will be "activated."

I start by imagining what dreaming is like, which is sort of weird to do. I imagine the feeling of being refreshed after a long night's rest and remembering exactly what you dreamed about. I think about the bits of dreams that I can remember and call those to mind as well. Thinking about dreams makes me feel uneasy, but I'm not sure why.

I then start to imagine what "mind-blowing" sex is like. I think about the best sex that I've had. It's the time I had a threesome with a guy and another girl after a party, freshman year. I recall the feeling of being filled by his oversized cock while the girl was cumming in my mouth. That was good, but there must be better. I think about the shaking, screaming, squirting orgasms of porn stars. I know they're fake but I allow myself to believe that they're real, just for a moment. My breathing becomes shallow and I realize that I'm starting to get turned on myself. I decide that that's a good enough focus for the experiment.

Closing my eyes, I pull a pouch at random from the bag and slip it under Claire's pillow, inside the pillow case. I make my way back to the kitchen table and get back to work on my essay. An hour later, I've finished and submitted the paper and I start getting ready for bed. My mind is swimming with thoughts about my experiment and sleep comes slowly.

I awaken to the sound of screams. For a second, my heart pound with fear and my veins run cold with adrenaline. Then I recognize the sounds for what they are: the cries of pleasure. I can hear Claire moaning from the other room. She's practically yelling.

"Fuck me Greg! Yes! Yes! Mmmmmmmmrgghhh"

The sounds take on an animalistic quality as the pounding sound of the bed frame against the wall picks up pace. Claire and I have both had partners over before and we've both made a point of being discreet about our nocturnal activities. Greg must be doing something crazy to Claire for her to be so loud.

Claire continues to moan and scream, "oooohh fuckkkk yesss. Mrrrgghhh! agggghhhh! Fuck my horny little pussy, Greg!" and I notice that my fingers have drifted past the waistband of my pajama pants. Without really thinking about it, I've been gently stroking myself in small, light circles.

Claire continues to grunt and moan at the top of her lungs and I realize that I'm soaking wet. It's not that I'm turned on by the thought of my best friend being fucked. It feels like Claire's moans have created an infectious sexual energy that I've been caught up in.

I slide my two middle fingers into my soaking folds, lost in the symphony of Claire's moans of pleasure. Claire's cries of pleasure pick up pace, becoming short gasps of "ahh! Ohh! Ahhhggh! Fuck! Greg! Oh fuck!" And my fingers match her tempo.

Just as I can feel my own orgasm approaching, I hear Claire yell "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!!" Her screams reach a crescendo in time to my own climax. My muscles clench around my fingers and my hips buck as I lose myself in a moment of orgasmic bliss.

As Claire's grunts and moans of pleasure die down, I feel my own heart beat settling back down to normal. I clean myself up and change out my soaking sheets, being as quiet as I can. It's a long while before I fall back asleep.