Calvin and the Witch

Many thanks to tangentjoker, who edited this story.

All characters are 18 or older.

*****

It was a beautiful spring day, the kind that brings on spring fever. It was Saturday of the Memorial Day weekend. I had gone out to the park, to laze on a bench soaking up the warmth and the sun.

It was late morning. The park was not far from the downtown area. On a weekday, the area would be starting to fill up with office workers on lunch break. Many days, I would have been one of them.

My name is Calvin, last name Heathweed. I am the only child of a well-to-do family. My mother is an accountant, my father a lawyer. I work at a bank not far from the park. The city where the park is located is of medium size situated in the upper Midwest. It is a prosperous city, the banking business is competitive, but we all seem to be profitable. The bank I work at is a mid-sized regional bank. I am a loan officer, a very junior loan officer.

A few words about myself. Well, actually, about myself as I was at that time. I had graduated from college three years before. The bank was a first job, after graduation. I had a nagging worry that I was not doing as well as I should, career wise. My boss was a lady in her early fifties. She was a micromanager and tended to nitpick. But, as far as I could tell, she had always given me good evaluations.

I had just turned twenty-five. I was single, with no present girlfriend. I had never had a girlfriend for very long. There had only been a few. My sex life was sparse. I rarely had a date and only a few of them resulted in getting laid.

A big part of the problem, it affected me at work too, was my looks. I am short, and very slim. My height is 5' 4". I weigh barely 130. I look like a baby. No kidding, I look like a fifteen year old without the pimples. I am constantly ID checked. I have even had bars refuse to serve me after I had shown them my license. They thought it was a fake.

At work, it is the same. People find it hard to take anyone seriously who looks like a teenager. My boss, Ms. Bungee, was a little better, usually. But even she used baby talk once in a while. I tried growing a beard, but it didn't help. It was thin and wispy.

All that was really not on my mind that day. I was just sitting, sprawled really, on the bench, soaking up the sun. The clicking noise of high heels caught my attention. I let my eyes drift towards the sidewalk to watch a woman, probably in her mid-forties, striding by.

She was well dressed in a business suit with a purse hanging from her shoulder. She was about my height with a compact body. Her steps were long and confident. Her face was pretty, framed by shoulder length dark brown hair. She didn't seem to have used much makeup. Her expression, like her walk, was confident. Her breasts were not large, but looked right for her. What I could see of her legs, below her skirt looked nice. Clad in nylons and moderate heels I had to rate them as lovely. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, she had a nice ass, too.

Two things struck me about her. One was her confident air. The other was that she seemed extremely feminine. Despite the somewhat severe suit and the striding walk.

I thought to myself, "What an attractive woman. Too bad she's so much older than I."

When she was just a little way past, she looked back over her shoulder at me. She winked. No shit; she winked. It was then that I noticed the color of her eyes. They were purple; beautiful, gorgeous purple.

She walked a little further then stopped. She seemed to be listening to something. She abruptly turned and started back in my direction. I sat up straighter on the bench.

Heels clicking, she strode back to my bench. "May I sit down, Calvin?" she asked. She didn't wait for an answer. She sat gracefully.

I think my mouth was open. I managed to stammer. "How did you know my name? I don't remember meeting you. I don't think I would have forgotten."

"You never met me before," she said. "I plucked it out of your mind. I'm a witch. But please don't let that frighten you. Very few witches are as bad as portrayed.

"I'm Heather, by the way," she added.

"What else did you pluck from my mind?" I asked. I was a trifle nervous now.

"That you think I am attractive and feminine. Thank you for that. Also that you think I am too old for you. I only picked up your surface thoughts. I'm not even listening for them now. To do so would be intrusive."

"I do think you are attractive," I answered. "I think my mind is changing about the age thing.

"Could you have put a spell on me?" I asked, anxiously.

She laughed, a tinkling laugh. All my life I have heard women's laughs described as tinkling. This is the very first time I ever heard a real tinkle, almost like a chime. "I could, but I didn't, I won't." she said. "It would take the fun out of things.

"There is a bistro not far from here," she said. "Let's go for a bite to eat and get acquainted."

We stood. She took my arm. We walked to the small restaurant about fifteen minutes away. We made small talk on the way. The weather, what I worked at, things like that. I tried to ask her about being a witch, but she wouldn't talk about that.

"I'll tell you everything you need to know when the time comes, Calvin."

The restaurant was on the edge of a shopping area. There were tables set up outside on the sidewalk. Several lady shoppers were seated.

We found a table, without other customers too close. We ordered coffee and pastries. Heather put her hand over mine as we waited for our order.

"Are you from here, or are you visiting?" I asked.

"Visiting," she replied. "I have to go back Tuesday."

"Can I show you around while you're here?" I asked.

"That would be lovely," she said. "But there's nothing I really want to see. Why don't we just have a quiet dinner together? I think you are attracted to me. I find myself liking you. Perhaps we should let nature take its course."

"Did she mean what I thought she did? Was it merely another fantasy?" My thoughts were jumbled.

We sipped at our coffee, Heather nibbled at her pastry daintily. I ate mine slowly so I wouldn't finish too much ahead of her.

She looked at me solemnly. "Can I learn a little more about you?" She asked. "I won't without your permission. I won't look at anything too personal."

I was a little flummoxed. I wasn't sure about someone poking around in my mind. But she had asked.

"I guess so," I said hesitantly.

By this time, I was having fantasies about being in bed with her. I really didn't want her to see them. She smiled at my answer. I couldn't tell if she read my mind or not. She didn't seem to do anything.

We finished our coffee and pastries. "Let's walk a little more," she said.

Heather walked to the edge of the dining area while I went to pay the bill. I watched her. Her walk had changed. It was graceful now. Her hips swayed. She was no longer striding.

We walked back to the park arm in arm. Mostly silent. I felt contented, at ease. At the edge of the park under a large tree, she stopped and kissed me. A soft romantic kiss on the lips. Her arms around my neck. It lasted a long time.

"I think you are a very nice person, Cal," she told me.

I was Cal now, not Calvin. I preferred Cal. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think I prefer Calvin," she told me. "May I call you that?"

I was confused, but of course she could! This lovely woman could call me anything she pleased. I merely told her that would be fine.

She took my arm again. We continued walking. I didn't realize it until we were at the edge of the park, but we were almost to my place. She kissed me again. Taking my arm again, we walked to my apartment building. I had the feeling she was leading me, not the other way around.

"Let's go in, Calvin," she looked at me steadily.

I had not told her I lived in the building. She had plucked it out of my mind I was certain.

I hesitated. I searched my mind, to see if I was under a spell. But how would I know? In the end, testosterone won. It usually will, at least with me. I led her inside to my apartment.

I'm glad I had cleaned house the day before. Things hadn't got too messed up yet. I had even made the bed that morning. Inside the door we kissed again, much hotter this time. Heather pressed her body to mine. Pressing against my hardening cock.

We broke apart to look at each other.

"To put your mind at ease, Calvin. You are not under any spell," she said softly. "Except what is self-induced, brought on by pheromones and testosterone."

I actually laughed at her remark. I felt more comfortable now.

My apartment was small. I couldn't afford a bigger one. It was nice, though. The bedroom was big enough that I didn't feel cramped. I led her there. We kissed again standing by the bed. A hot, open mouthed kiss with lots of tongue. When we broke apart she laid her head on my shoulder with her arms holding me tightly.

I reluctantly broke our embrace to close the blinds and pull the drapes shut, to dim the light in the room. When I turned back to her, she had removed her suit jacket and was unbuttoning her blouse.

I started to undress, too, watching Heather all the while. She stripped down to panties and bra with thigh high nylons. Panties and bra were sexy and brief. When I was down to my shorts, she put her arms around me for another kiss.

She stepped back slightly for me to open the hooks closing her bra. I let it fall open showing me a lovely pair of tits. They were not very large. About the size of small grapefruits, but they were perfectly formed. Firm, with erect nipples, large dark areolas.

Heather pushed my shorts off my hips. They slid down my legs releasing my hard cock to stand straight out in front of me. She reached out a hand to stroke it, softly.

I knelt in front of her. I reached for the elastic of the panties. I pulled them over her hips, down over her lovely nylon sheathed thighs. They fell to the floor. As she stepped out of them, I gazed at the pussy I had exposed.

She trimmed her hair a little. It was not wild, but still a delicious looking tangle. Her labia were swollen with desire. I leaned forward to kiss her mound. Her hands were on my head, caressing me.

I inhaled her scent, the aroma of her pussy. It was intoxicating. There was the fragrance of musk, enticing, erotic. There was another fragrance too, subtly familiar. Sandalwood? It seemed to be her natural scent, not a perfume she had applied.

She urged me to rise, pulling on my arms. When I was on my feet again she took my hand to lead me the few steps to the bed. She turned back the covers, lay down and held her arms up to me.

Heather kissed me as I had never experienced before. I'm not sure what she did but it was hot, more than hot. My already hard cock was doing its best to get harder. I could feel the blood surging into it, pulsating.

Her tits were soft and smooth inviting me to fondle them. To kiss them. To rub my face and neck over them. To suckle at her nipples as she held my head to them as she would a child.

I started to work my way lower. Kissing her firm body. Licking her lovely navel. Rubbing my face on her sensuous mons.

She pulled at my arm gently, to bring me back for another of her kisses.

"I want all of that, Calvin. But let's save it for later. I want you inside me. I want your seed in my body."

I wondered if there was a chance of her getting pregnant. Who cared? Testosterone won again.

I let my hand drift to her pussy as we exchanged more of her wonderful kisses. She was wet, very wet. I could sense the musk and the delightful sandalwood scent was stronger.

Heather urged me on top of her. "Fuck me now," she whispered. My cock slid smoothly into her wet cunt. Gliding on a film of her juices. It was like we were made with each other in mind. I had never, within my limited experience, felt so perfectly matched to a woman's pussy.

I heard a soft, "oh yes," from Heather. Her legs looped over mine, her arms around my neck. She held me there for a long moment as if savoring the experience of our joining.

We were kissing with wet, open mouthed kisses. I pumped my cock into her hard and deep. She responded with thrusts of her hips. We quickly picked up that ancient rhythm and were meeting each other's thrusts.

She clasped her legs over my back and my bare flesh sang with the feel of her nylons on my hips and butt. I heard cries of "Fuck me," as she rose to an orgasm.

"Oh Calvin," I heard. "It's so good." It was more than that to me. It was a thrill. An unsurpassed thrill. Never had a woman told me such a thing.

Heather was cumming hard, with cries of joy and pleasure. Our kisses became sloppier. I fondled her tits, kissed them and bit them. I was elated as I thrust my hard cock into her welcoming pussy. She was the first woman, ever, that had made me feel that they really, really were enjoying sex with me. Enjoying it immensely.

I could feel the exhilaration in my body as I reached an orgasm of my own. Every cell in my body was singing as my cum gushed from my cock. And again. And yet again my cum poured into Heather's welcoming pussy.

She held me as I softened. She held me tightly, whispering to me how wonderful I was. How she never wanted to let me go. Truth be told, I did feel wonderful. I never did want to leave her embrace. I was on top of the world.

Eventually, she did let me go after I had softened to the point that I slipped out of her.

We lay together holding each other with occasional light kisses. It wasn't very long before she was rubbing her pussy against my thigh. She pulled my knee up so she could rub herself on my knee cap.

She gave me her tit to suck and put gentle pressure on my head urging me downward. She didn't have to urge very hard.

I like to eat pussy. I love the scents, the tastes. The few times I have had the chance to do so have been memorable. In fact the only woman I have ever had sex with four times came back just so I would go down on her. But then, someone laughed at her for making love with a baby and she refused to go out with me again.

I slid down Heather's lovely body kissing as I went. Her legs parted for me as I kissed her sensuous mons. I lay between them and gazed in rapture at her lovely pussy.

It had to be perfect. I knew it was perfect. It couldn't be anything else. Beautiful labia framed by her dark brown hair. Trimmed, but only for neatness, to tame the wilder parts.

The lips swollen and ready, her juices seeping between them, glistening like dewy drops on the crown of hair capping her pussy.

She caressed my head as I contemplated the lovely sight. She threw a leg onto my back and let her nylon sheathed calf rub along my bare flesh. It was a delightful sensation.

I sensed that she had put a pillow under her butt. With a hand on each side of my face, she drew me close. Closer to that wonderful scent. Her musk was stronger now, erotic and suggestive. The sandalwood flavor was still there a delicious overtone to musk of her lust.

She drew me closer still and my tongue flicked out to taste of her juices, delicately I tasted the dewy beads on her lips. Lovely, sweet salty, still with the pleasing hint of sandalwood.

I lost myself then. Heather told me later that she did, too. Both of us with only the thought of eat and be eaten, suck and be sucked. Her clit, her tunnel, her inner lips. Hot, ready wanting me wanting my tongue, my lips, even my teeth.

Her moans; her cries of enjoyment. Her cum, juices flowing from her, to bathe my face in her essences. Her hands in my hair. Holding me tight. Her legs clasping me close.

Her wild shout as she rolled us over to sit on my face. Her fingers spreading her labia to rub her inner heat on my face. My nose rubbing her clit as my tongue probed her tunnel. Her cum still flowing from her. I lapped it greedily drinking whatever I could catch on my tongue or my lips.

It was wild. It was breathtaking. I knew when she had enough. When she could take no more. She lifted herself from my face and moved back to kneel over my chest. I looked at her my face smeared with her juices. She smiled happily and rolled off me to lie alongside me covering my face with kisses.

She didn't have to speak. Her kisses told me how much she had enjoyed it. We laid together holding each other.

Heather finally spoke. "That was fantastic, Calvin."

"But it was for me, too," I replied.

"I know, I could feel it in your body. That didn't take witchcraft." She laughed then, her tinkling laugh.

"I'm getting hungry," Heather said after another long silence. "I think we skipped lunch."

"I am, too," I told her. "But I'd rather eat you."

"We have lots of time for that, Calvin. If we overdo it, we won't enjoy it as much."

"If you show me your kitchen, I'll cook us a nice dinner," Heather told me.

"We could go out to eat, if you like."

"Oh, I can fix us something nice right here," Heather exclaimed. "I enjoy making fine meals."

"Okay," I told her, "But I don't have much."

'I'll make do," she told me with an air of confidence.

We got up and I showed her to the kitchen. She started looking in the refrigerator and cupboards. I stood spellbound watching her body move around the kitchen. I don't think it was a spell from her. Just a natural reaction to sheer beauty.

"Would you mind dressing for dinner, Calvin?"

"Of course not."

"That would be nice," I'll get right to work. Stay in the bedroom until I call you."

"Okay."

I dressed in my best suit, with dress shirt and tie. Then sat in the bedroom chair waiting for Heather. She opened the door and looked in about ten minutes.

"Dinner's ready," she said with a smile.

She opened the door and stood waiting for me resplendent in a floor length evening gown. She held out a hand to me and I stood, astonished. Heather hooked her arm through mine and we went to the small dining area. It was a section of the living room next to the kitchen.

The table was set with fine crystal, a candelabra, fine china and a bottle of my wine open; glasses already poured for both of us.

I sat, dazed and stared across the table at this lovely woman who had shared my bed. Who had now produced a splendid meal that would have been impossible from what I had on hand in the kitchen.

"Is this a spell?" I asked Heather.

"No, well yes, kind of." She didn't seem to know how to answer. "But you're not under a spell. I promised not to do that, and I won't. But the meal is an illusion, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset, Heather. Not as long as the spell is not on me, I can enjoy the illusion."

"Oh, good." she seemed happy. "I like setting up fine meals like this. I really enjoy it."

I tasted the roast duck. It was delicious with a delightful orange sauce. As good as I have ever had in the finest restaurants. I didn't ask her how she did it. Instead I thanked her for a sumptuous meal.

After dinner, and a couple of glasses of wine each, she stood and held out a hand to me. Once again, she hooked her arm under my elbow and we returned to the bedroom.

Standing near the bed, Heather undressed me. I started to do the same with her but she stopped me.

"Not now, darling. I have something in mind," she spoke softly. Still wearing the evening gown, she stripped me. She led me to the bedroom chair and turned me to sit in it. It was a comfortable chair with an upholstered seat and back, and padded arm rests.

I was getting hard by the time I sat. As she knelt in front of me, and her intention was plain, the blood rushed into my cock bringing me the rest of the way to a throbbing hard on.

She rubbed her face on my hard cock. Along the line of her jaw, against her cheeks, on her neck where I would nuzzle her. Her tongue licked at me, delicately at first; but soon wetly licking the length of my hard cock.