Mia, the Kinetic Sorceress Pt. 01

"I want you to lay back, Paul, and let me do everything, at least for now." At that, she straddled my legs, one knee on either side of me, and reached one hand down to my balls and started a gentle caress. She squeezed slightly, then resumed the caress, and alternated back and forth. After a while, I sensed a slight tightening in my balls, not uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. The massage was very pleasurable but the other sensation was a bit odd. After a bit more of the scrotum kneading, Mia used her other hand to grasp the base of my cock and began to slowly stroke it up and down. Other women have given me handjobs but it never felt this good.

"In addition to the pleasant sensation of my hands, what you are feeling is sexual energy pouring into you. It is supercharging the sensation for you." A wicked smile crossed her lips. "And is doing other things to you as well. Look." She looked down at my cock and I followed her gaze down. And gasped.

On my very best day, my cock is 7 inches long. So I was understandably shocked when I looked down to see Mia firmly stroking a 10 inch cock that was attached to, well, me. Mia could not get her hand all the way around me as she continued to stroke up and down the length of my now 10 inch shaft. "Watch this," she said.

With each stroke, I was getting a little longer and a little wider. The sensation was like getting harder and harder but I was already rock hard, so the erection just got longer and thicker. She momentarily stopped stroking and moved my lengthening cock to give me a partial view of her hand holding up my balls. Which were now half again as large as they had been before. That odd sensation was my now larger ball sac pushing against my inner thighs. This was surreal.

"You're making my cock bigger," I squeaked.

"Well, technically we both are. Your sexual energy combined with mine is fueling it. I'm just directing it to your penis and letting it manifest as a larger, thicker, harder cock than you had before. Not that there was anything wrong with you before. But you did say I could have some fun with you, right?"

I nodded, my mind reeling over the possibilities.

"I think 14 inches will be a good place to start," Mia said as she resumed her stroking. "Although who knows what might happen later," she added. When my cock had inflated to a full foot, then 13, then 14 inches, although Mia continued to masturbate me the growth stopped. I was, at least at the time, the proud owner of a 14 inch cock. And it felt amazing. "Don't worry, though. The change isn't permanent. Unless you want it to be." She licked her deep red lips again.

Mia quickened the pace of her stroking and started to massage my balls more firmly. The sensation was amazing and I felt that familiar pressure starting to build again. Only more so.

"You should feel free to share with me what turns you on. As you saw with my hair, eyes, nails and lips in the diner, I can manipulate my appearance at will. I can be the girl next door, the elegant seductress, the porn star -- whatever you wish." As she named each of the different personas, her face and hair briefly changed to match; her features stayed roughly the same but it was as if she had become each of those personalities, not just wearing a mask. She reverted back to the Mia who I had kissed by the pool and continued, "If you are the curious type, I can also be a transsexual or a hermaphrodite." Mercifully, she did not transform into either of those just then -- I would have jumped out of my skin. "I can be tall, petite, athletic, Rubenesque. I can even be Asian, African, Indian, or any other race you wish. I can even be invisible," at which point she completely vanished although the stroking and fondling continued, "or there can be two of me." Suddenly there were two Mia's, one a brunette the other a redhead, and four hands pleasuring me. She melted back into her original form and smiled. "I'm flexible."

"You're amazing," I stammered.

Mia smiled and blushed and then replied, "And you're leaking." She rubbed the underside of my cockhead with her thumb and caught a clear drop of precum which she licked off. "Looks like you are getting close. I can feel it." She shivered with delight. "As I said, I have been pouring energy into you. This not only helped your cock grow but will also intensify the sensations. It may feel disorienting, but it will also feel amazing. Don't fight it and don't force it."

I took a deep breath and watched as Mia's hand expertly pumped my enlarged shaft and cradled my now aching balls. All through her demonstration of her shape-shifting abilities she had been holding me on the edge of orgasm. Now she was leading me to the edge and over it.

When the orgasm began, the tightening in my groin was convulsive, like I was no longer in control of my body. Mia calmly continued to stroke me and watched with anticipation as that first shudder ended and the pulse of ejaculation began. If feeling sperm released through a 7 inch cock is pleasurable then feeling that same rush through 14 inches is mind-blowing. As any guy can tell you, having an orgasm after abstaining for a few days is especially sweet because of that feeling of releasing a larger than normal volume of fluid, the exquisite feeling of so much sperm exploding through your urethra. Mia had not only enlarged my cock but she had made my balls and, apparently, prostate larger as well. When I tell you that the first spurt reached four feet above the head of my cock, I am not exaggerating. I let out a long low moan as the first spurt subsided and prepared for the second wave.

The second spurt was every bit as large and dense as the first, the feeling of release just as satisfying. As was the third. And the fourth. I was beginning to wonder how long this could go on and was afraid I might pass out again. By the sixth or seventh pulse, the dramatic spray of semen had subsided to a continuous flow bubbling out of the head of my cock and on to Mia's hand. Several more mild pulses from my groin signaled the end of the orgasm and I watched as Mia gently stroked the length of my cock, ensuring that every drop she had manifested in my enhanced scrotum and prostate had been milked out.

Mia raised her sperm-laden hand to her lips and lapped a tongueful. Her eyes rolled back in her head briefly and she let out a long "mmmmmm" as she tasted the sperm. "I told you that you were delicious in the diner, Paul, and that was just your sperm. This," indicating the dollop on her hand, "is a delightful mix of you and raw sexual energy, energy that your arousal created and your orgasm released and shared. This is how I sustain myself. Not literally from eating sperm, although there is nothing wrong with that," as she licked her hand again and winked at me, "but by helping to create new sexual energy with a partner and then basking in it. I could probably live off the positive energy created and shared by good people simply doing good deeds -- like helping damsels in distress change tires and warding off thugs -- but sexual energy is more intense. And more fun."

I was grasping about 50% of what she was saying, still reeling from the most intense orgasm I could never have imagined. But I felt wonderful, drained and energized all at once. And Mia glowed. I could feel the energy hovering around her, like a static charge but inviting and warm. Without even thinking I reached out and wrapped my arms around her and pulled her down to me, her head resting on my chest. Her warmth surrounded me like a blanket and I heard her sigh with contentment which, despite everything that I had seen and felt, was the happiest moment of the day for me.

We lay there for what felt like hours but what was probably only 10 minutes or so. I squeezed her and then loosened my arms. She raised her head, kissed me lightly on the lips, and then swung her legs over on to the ground. I looked down and noticed that my once enormous cock and balls had returned to normal size. I was a bit disappointed but suspected that I might enjoy the experience of having a monster cock again.

"Although I sustain myself on positive energy, I still like to eat. And since we never got around to ordering lunch at the diner, I'm starving. Shall we?" Mia pointed to the far side of the pool deck where a table, two chairs, two club sandwiches and two frosty pints of beer had suddenly appeared. I stood up slowly, my legs still wobbly and felt a robe materialize around me. I absent-mindedly rubbed the fabric of the robe, convincing myself it was real, then took Mia's arm and walked to the table.

We both sat and tucked into our sandwiches with enthusiasm. I knew I was hungry and despite whatever energy Mia had poured into me I was feeling depleted. The sandwich helped, and the beer made relaxing a bit easier as well. Mia seemed to enjoy watching me demolish my sandwich almost as much as eating hers.

After a few minutes of silent chomping and slurping, I began, "If I remember correctly you said you were very old and unusual, but human. What does that mean, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind," Mia replied, "but I'm not sure any answer I give will be satisfying. Even after all of this time, I don't completely know how or why, so I stopped searching for answers and resigned myself to knowing that any further clarity will be revealed to me if or when I need it. For now, I accept who I am and what I must do." She took another bite of her sandwich.

"OK. But an unsatisfying answer is better than none, so if you are willing to share..." I said.

"Very willing, Paul," she interrupted, "I just wanted to set your expectations. I am about 400 years old and was born in Eastern Europe, in a small farming village. At an early age, I found myself able to do things other children couldn't do. It came so easily to me that I did it without thinking -- moving things without touching them, filling water buckets, making an apple or pear appear when I was hungry. I didn't understand why others were unable to do these things, but as I grew older I realized that I was unusual and so kept my ability to myself. What I did notice is that when I did something helpful, it made me feel stronger -- the energy I was expending was being returned to me and more. If I did something hurtful or destructive, I'd feel weak. Similarly, when I was around happy people, like other children, I was full of energy and others around me felt happier. And, if I was around mean or angry people, I wilted and instinctively wanted to get away."

Mia paused for a moment, sipped her beer (which had refilled itself), and continued: "When a bird is born, it feels no amazement that it can fly. Years of natural instinct makes the bird aware of what it can do -- it just takes some practice to do it well. I was the same way, although I didn't recognize it until many years later. As I got older, I experimented with doing things -- some felt good, some didn't. My parents were basically good people so between the morals they imparted and the natural feedback from my actions, I developed a very clear sense of what I could and should do. Of course, I didn't know at the time about the whole idea of 'positive energy' -- that metaphor is a product of modern science. My parents thought of my ability as a gift from God, which I suppose it is, and the few others with whom I shared it thought of it as 'magic.' The author Arthur C. Clarke once said that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. My ability may not be technology but the concept still applies. I was born with a natural ability that most others do not have. If it's a mutation or evolution or actually magic I don't know, and don't care."

She paused again and took my hand. "Have I scared you off, yet?"

"Just the opposite," I replied. "The explanation makes it all a bit easier to process, even though it changes my understanding of reality completely. What you said earlier about being an artist makes perfect sense. In the same way that most of us look at Bach or Hendrix or Pavarotti -- artists whose work we can appreciate but couldn't duplicate even with a thousand lifetimes -- I now look at you. They have the ability to create something that most of humanity can't. So can you. You truly are an artist."

Mia smiled warmly. "Nicely put. I'm glad you get it." She took another sip and continued her story. "As you might expect 400 years ago, an adolescent capable of 'magic' was not looked upon kindly. Other than immediate family and friends, I kept my secret hidden. But secrets never stay hidden. I was found out and my family and I were forced to flee. I was able to keep us fed, and we worked menial jobs as we continued to put as much distance between us and our pursuers. We ended up in northern Italy, worked in a village that grew mostly grapes and produced cheese, and we were happy. I did what I could to make life easier for us, became more comfortable with my ability, and lived a simple and anonymous life."

"When I reached my 20's, I stopped aging. When I turned 30, people marveled at how youthful I looked. When I turned 40, people began to talk. As it happened, in my early 40's, both of my parents died suddenly. They had stayed quite healthy and vigorous, as a result of being exposed to me for so long although I didn't figure that out until years later, but a stone wall collapsing on even the most vital senior citizen will kill them. When I saw them, hours after the accident, I nearly killed myself trying to will energy and life back into them. But I was pouring my energy into a void. Their life force had moved on and I would have as easily made a statue come to life. But I tried and I exhausted myself in the process. I became very ill and were it not for the nuns in the local convent nursing me back to health I am sure I would have drained away. Their care and kindness were a miracle drug for me. I fed on it and made a rapid recovery."

Mia paused and looked wistfully out at the ocean. A tear welled in her eye. Obviously these were hard memories to recall. "You don't have to go on if you don't want to," I offered.

"No, it's OK. I really should recall those days more often out of respect for those who started me on my journey." She smiled at me, wiped the tear away, and continued. "With no family left, I thanked the nuns and our friends in the town, sold what few belongings we had, and headed off to see the world. I walked, sometimes transported myself places, and enjoyed life. I wanted for nothing, never felt in danger, and soaked up everything I could -- language, music, art, food. It may come as a surprise, but while I can create a gourmet meal out of thin air, I couldn't cook one to save my life. I can't play an instrument, but I could make one play for me. My ability, while very broad and powerful, is restricted to the manipulation and creation of energy. I can't make myself a talented composer or painter."

With a quick flick of her fingertip, the table was clear and a bowl of fruit materialized in front of us. "But with my ability and my imagination, I CAN create experiences. And that is the joy and satisfaction of my life." A pear floated from the bowl to her hand and she took a big juicy bite. The nectar glistened on her lips as she smiled, happily munching.

I suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to kiss her. I got up from my chair, knelt down next to her and kissed her mouth, savoring the taste of the sweet fruit and her sensuous lips. She broke the kiss, took another bite, and then went back to kissing me. Pear nectar was smearing around our mouths and dripping down our chins and it was luscious. We licked each other's lips and hungrily kissed, with the occasional bite of fruit interrupting our sticky make-out. I could feel heat gathering around Mia, a shimmer like a heat devil on a highway, but without the searing hotness. There was energy building up around her. The passion of our kissing was feeding her and she was getting aroused.

Mia took a last bite of the pear and tossed the core over her shoulder -- it vanished before it hit the ground. She smiled at me and ran her fingertip around my lips, collecting any stray bits of fruit or nectar. I took her hand in mine and guided her fingertip back to my lips, and licked and sucked the juice off. I felt her shudder slightly. She took her fingertip and did a similar clean-up around her own lips and offered her finger to me again, which I guided into my mouth and licked for a moment.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do and hoped Mia was on the same page. I removed her fingertip from my mouth and slowly guided it down to her waist. I spread her robe open and slid her finger down between her legs. I could feel the heat and moistness instantly. I traced the outline of her pussy lips with her fingertip and felt another shudder. After a moment or two more of teasing I guided her fingertip into her pussy. She was already very wet and when I pulled out her finger it was drenched in her sweet honey. Looking her straight in the eyes, I guided her finger back to my lips and slowly licked it dry.

She tasted exquisite. Sweet, fragrant, slightly spicy and creamy. Mia was a delicious treat, waiting to be unwrapped. She sighed as I repeated dipping her finger and licking her juices from it. I could sense she was getting worked up, both from the look in her eyes, which had begun to sparkle like blue diamonds, and from the crackling energy that pulsed around her.

From my knees, I pulled her chair away from the table and knelt between her legs. I reached out to spread her robe further open but she waved her hand and the robe vanished and a pillow appeared below my knees. That was all the invitation I needed.

I lowered my head to her crotch and licked the inside of her left thigh, then her right. I stopped my tongue before touching her pussy but made sure to exhale deeply as my mouth passed so she could feel the heat of my breath on her. She squirmed slightly and I could feel her breathing begin to quicken and deepen. After bathing her thighs with my tongue, I stopped and placed my mouth inches above her. I breathed out again and then extended my tongue and touched the tip to her wet sweet labia. A soft moan escaped Mia's mouth and she shuddered again. I took this as an encouraging sign and so continued to trace around her lips with my tongue, savoring the tasty flow of honey. After a few laps around, without warning I plunged my tongue inside her, as deep as I could, my mouth pressing against her pussy lips. She squealed in surprise which was followed by long guttural purr.

The taste and feel of her pussy was driving me crazy. It was almost as if she was a highly addictive drug and I needed to get as much of her as fast as possible. Mia explained later that my frenzy was being induced by the creation of sexual energy around us, generated by the enthusiastic oral I was giving her. All I knew at the moment was that I needed to taste her.

I stooped occasionally to nibble and tongue her clit, which caused more squirming and moaning from Mia. I was loving every second of this. After the amazing experiences and sensations she had provided me I was overjoyed to be providing her with such pleasure. And the joy I felt was further feeding the rush of energy that was gathering around Mia and me. I sensed she was getting close and maintained a steady lapping at her clit and slit, Just in case I hadn't sensed she was getting close, Mia grabbed my head and pushed firmly, making sure I didn't get any silly idea to suddenly stop.

I heard her climax start before I felt it. A high thin whine escaped her lips that steadily expanded into a full out scream. I grabbed her hips in my hands and flattened my tongue against her clit and continued to apply pressure as the orgasm washed over her. She threw her head back, still screaming and arched her back to the point where I thought she might break. Her hips quivered in my hands and her pussy flowed like a river, over my tongue and down my chin.