Mia, the Kinetic Sorceress Pt. 02

Mia broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes, her hips gently rocking up and down, drawing me deeper and deeper inside her. The phantom hand had moved beneath my balls, cupping them warmly and massaging them gently. "So good," Mia said softly. I started to thrust up as she lowered her hips but she shook her head. "Let me," she whispered, so I lowered my butt back on to the bed and enjoyed the sensation of Mia slowly riding me. She never increased her pace, but I was getting more and more worked up.

I felt my climax approaching. After months of frustration in dreamland I felt like welcome blessed relief had finally arrived. Once again, I thrust up to meet Mia's hips, and once again she shook her head. "No, please," she urgently said. But I couldn't stop, not now. It felt so good to be inside her that I thrust again, this time harder. "No," she pleaded. The expression on her face had changed from the bliss of moments earlier, to concern, and now finally to fear. I could not imagine what could be wrong, but that thought and the look on her face did nothing to slow me down. I was a runaway train. I felt the orgasm building inside me and could not resist thrusting and pounding my way to get to it.

It began as it usually does, the quick tightening in my balls followed by a contraction in my groin like a spring compressing. I smiled, confident that I knew what was finally going to happen next. And then I was once again aware of Mia's face. The look of fear had vanished, replaced by sadness and resignation. I thought I knew what was going to happen; Mia did know.

My contraction quickly reversed and I erupted. Time seemed to slow down as I felt my elusive release begin. I could sense as the fountain of fluids coursed up through my cock and breached the tip. And then watched in horror as Mia silently dissolved into a billion fine grains of dust that fell to the floor and vanished.

The scene repeated itself over and over. In the next instance I was laying poolside and Mia emerged from the house wearing a fire engine red bikini, barely containing a pair of 42-DDD breasts. She was at least 6 feet tall, not counting the bright red 6-inch heels she wore. Her skin was golden and glistening with oil; her hair was red to match her outfit, teased outrageously high, her lips and nails painted to match as well.

Later she appeared as a sexy secretary, wearing glasses with her hair in a bun, just the hint of a black lacy bra beneath her conservative grey suit. And then still later she was a college coed in the backseat of my car, laughing kindly as I fumbled with her bra straps.

Each scene started differently, one of my sexual fantasies stockpiled over the years, brought to life in vivid detail. But each scene ended the same, with me becoming overwhelmingly aroused, losing control, starting to cum and then watching as Mia disintegrated before my eyes.

I awoke wracked with guilt. I had been so obsessed with my own situation -- confusion, frustration, grief -- that I hadn't truly considered that my reaction was likely causing Mia as much pain, or more, than I was feeling. I tried to reason with myself: how could I know? My response was perfectly normal. How could I suddenly get a glimpse of a world of wondrous possibilities and then not mourn the loss when it was just as suddenly snatched away? Anyone would have felt the same.

Maybe. But my dreams had told me a different story. My dreams clearly and indisputably pointed out that I was selfishly longing for what I had lost and not considering who I had lost. Of course I had been worried about her, wondering if she was OK or even alive. But did I really expect her to return to someone who was so preoccupied with the apparent injustice levied upon him and overcome by the growing bitterness toward the woman he felt had caused it all?

A horrible thought crossed my mind. Mia had come, weak and timid, to see me. Me, who was toxic, overflowing with pain and anger. A huge roiling mass of negative energy, directed at Mia. And she must have known that's what she'd find. And yet she came, to ask forgiveness and calm my fears about her safety. In her weakened state, she took the chance to come see me. No wonder she couldn't stay to explain. Just seeing me must have drained her to the point of complete exhaustion.

My feeling of guilt was growing rapidly. Mia said she vanished to save me. She's not omnipotent, she told me that specifically. What happened when she and I made love must have triggered something that even she could not control. And perhaps the only way to keep me from harm was for her to remove the danger. Which meant leaving.

It made sense. But why did she wait four months to tell me. Was she so weakened by saving me that it took her four months to recover? I guess that's possible. The thought dawned on me again that four months to a 400 year old may seem like a blink of an eye so it might be a perfectly normal period of recuperation. When I had my knee operation years ago, it took me 6 months of recovery and physio to even begin to approach normal. Four months to recover from -- whatever that was -- might be a fast recovery for all I knew.

But, I thought, it might also be that it took four months for her to build up the energy, and perhaps the emotional stamina, to face the black hole of negativity that was me. The guilt was beginning to give me a headache, but a tiny kernel of gratitude began to sprout somewhere deep down inside me. She risked her life to save me. The day we met she wanted nothing more than to share a magical experience with me, to reward me for just being a decent person and mutually enjoy each other's positive energy and love. And when it apparently spun out of control, she did what she had to do to keep me safe. I was so overcome by the loss of having her taken away that I had completely lost sight of what had been given and what had been avoided. And now it appeared that she had once again risked her life to visit me and ask forgiveness. I suddenly felt like it should be me begging forgiveness.

"Thank you," she said. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I looked up from my bed and seated on my desk chair was a small, pale figure with light brown hair hanging limply, wearing a wispy plain white sundress. Mia. "You didn't have to take the time to try to understand, but you did. I'm grateful." She was looking down at her hands, crossed in her lap.

I wasn't sure the right way to respond to that, or if I was even prepared to, so I tried to say something neutral. "When you said you were coming back soon, I didn't begin to hope it would be this soon," I said.

"That was your doing," she replied and smiled slightly. "I was, still am, weak and I could not survive exposure to negative energy, especially not aimed directly at me. And especially not from you. I was barely able to come to you last night but I sensed your anger about your evening out with your friends so I had to risk it." My pangs of guilt returned and my face turned red in shame. Mia quickly cried out, "No, no, no, please don't!" She suddenly looked paler with a pained expression. "I was able to come back when you began to have some good thoughts about me. You took the time to piece together some of what happened, what I had to do and why. Please don't feel guilty. If anyone should feel guilty it's me. I risked your safety; you trusted me and my carelessness almost cost you everything." Mia began sobbing into her hands and I could see her start fading from view.

"Thank you," I said softly. "Thank you for saving me. Thank you for risking your life to come back. Thank you for everything." The realization of what had actually happened that day, the magical, impossible, sexy, tender incredible hours Mia shared with me came flooding back in an instant. The pain was there, still, but the pain was rapidly being replaced by understanding, and with understanding came appreciation.

And with appreciation, came Mia. She was still crying, but she looked up and through her tears she saw that she was no longer fading. The paleness of her skin gave way to a very slight rosy tint and her hair regained some of its luster. I got up from the bed, walked over to her and scooped her up into my arms. She wasn't floating but she was light and frail. I rocked her gently as tears continued to stream down her face. She leaned her head against me and I could feel the tears trickle down my chest. They were warm, and tingled. Why would I have expected anything different from Mia's tears? I hoped they were tears of joy, but just to be sure I held her tightly to let her know that, for now, she was alright.

What happened next was a surprise to me. Mia's tears slowed and eventually stopped and her breathing evened out and became soft and regular. And then she fell asleep in my arms. I watched in rapt fascination as her skin shed its paleness and warmed to a peachy glow. Her hair thickened and grew and even the material of her dress became less wispy and felt like silk. She began to feel warm again. The familiar glow and blanket of warmth that I fondly remember surrounding here was nowhere to be found, but she no longer looked like she'd flicker out like a candle flame. Many emotions ran through my head but I was mostly relieved. I laid Mia gently out on the bed, pulled a sheet up over her to keep her warm, laid down next to her and watched her sleep.

For twelve and a half hours. During which time I fell asleep a couple of times myself, made lunch, and generally tried to relax. I told myself that by thinking happy thoughts about Mia I would help her recharge herself so I tried to concentrate on the fun, the laughter, the erotic pleasures we shared. I didn't know if it was helping Mia but it did wonders for me.

When Mia finally stirred, it was evening. She rolled over on to her back, opened her eyes, and immediately sat bolt upright in the bed. "What happened?" she asked, looking rather disoriented.

"You fell asleep," I replied.

"I did?" she said, stretching her arms over her head, a look of calm slowly replacing the confusion. "Wow. I almost never sleep. I must have been completely wiped out." She looked over at me. "And felt very safe." A very faint, almost imperceptible, glow hovered around as she shook off the half day of sleep. "How long was I out for?"

"Over 12 hours," I told her. Mia's eye nearly bugged out of her head.

"Really? I haven't slept that long for a hundred years," she said. For any other woman that would have been hyperbole, but for Mia it was probably 100% true. "I can usually just relax and recharge but I guess the exhaustion of the past few months and the emotional release of seeing you again forced me to go beyond just relaxing. It felt nice; odd but nice. I could feel you near me, too. Thank you. You may not realize it but that helped. Basking in someone's positive energy rejuvenates me. But especially yours. That it was your energy helped me more than you can imagine." I had learned to imagine quite a lot over the last few months but I took her word for it.

"You look better," I told her. "Not that you looked bad before," I hastily added. "You know what I mean."

"I do, and I feel better too. My physical self is virtually indistinguishable from my energetic self so when I am depleted, it shows. I literally become a shadow of myself. When I can tap into the energy around me, I look healthy and radiant. I can look pretty much however I want. But as starved of energy as I was, I was barely able to retain my natural appearance."

Starved of energy. I shuddered at the thought. I didn't know exactly what that meant but based on the very limited understanding of physical and transcendent energy that Mia had imparted to me, it sounded horrible, or even lethal. "Are you ..." I began, then hesitated. "Were you close to dying?"

"Do you remember when I described to you when my parents died? I was pouring energy into them, hoping to bring them back to life. But I was pouring myself into an empty bottomless vessel. My parents -- their energy, their essence, their soul -- were no longer associated with their bodies. As tragic as that is for the people left behind like me, it is a relatively minor change for them. They shed their bodies but their energy continues to exist. I don't know where, although location is a physical concept. They may be somewhere else or they may be everywhere. I just don't feel them anymore."

I nodded, recalling how difficult it was for her talking about her parents' death. She continued, "Everyone's energy, their life force, maintains their body. For most human beings, the body eventually wears out. Mine doesn't or at least it hasn't much so far. My body, my physical existence is fed and renewed by my life energy. In the same way I create and direct energy, I use it to renew my physical self. My body is the source of much of the transcendent energy I experience and create. That's why sex is so vital to me. In addition to the obvious pleasure, it is a means for me to use my physical body in conjunction with my energetic self to create more energy. But as much of a source of energy my body is, it is also a drain, like it is for anyone. If you don't eat and don't rest, you become depleted and eventually your body fails, you die, and your life energy moves on. Is this making any sense?"

I nodded although I still didn't see how this was answering my question. "What you saw last night was me in a depleted state. If I had continued to weaken, I would have been unable to maintain my body." She paused and lowered her eyes. "You asked if I was close to dying. I was. Very close, for a long time. Unlike my parents, my body would not weaken. I would simply have not had enough energy to maintain it and it would have faded away. My energetic self would live on, of course, but my life in the physical world would have been over."

I began to silently sob, relieved that Mia had averted her eyes. The thought of the world without Mia was suddenly unbearable. She continued, "It took me a long time to build up the energy to come to you and withstand what I knew would be some strong -- and perfectly justified -- feelings." I nearly doubled over when I heard that. "It was a risk I was willing to take. I needed to take."

The idea that my anger and pain had become a danger to Mia's existence was crushing. For so long after our encounter I was wallowing in my loss and frustration. I didn't know any better. But knowing now that I was inadvertently keeping Mia away -- or worse, causing her to weaken -- was heart breaking to me. And, of course, Mia instantly sensed that.

"You mustn't blame yourself. How could you possibly understand? I disappeared without a trace or explanation. If it makes you feel any better, I was longing to be with you. I felt you, felt your pain every moment. I was getting stronger and your hurt was slowly mending. But then last night, when the side-effect of our day together drew those women to you, and you flew into a rage, I knew I had to come, even for a few seconds and let you know I was alright and thinking of you. When I appeared, if you had received me with hate, I probably would have faded away." She paused. "And I think I would have wanted to. But your reaction was pain, not hate. And the first thing you asked me was if I was alright. That saved me. I was still too weak to stay, but you had kept me from vanishing completely. The next morning, when you let yourself be open to the possibility that I would never intentionally hurt you and that I was in terrible pain, I was again strong enough to come to you." Again she paused. "And you accepted me."

I sat down on the bed and held her, and we cried on each other's shoulders, tears of joy and relief. As each moment passed I could feel Mia's warmth grow. She was still a ghost of the woman I made love to, but she was Mia. When we both ran out of tears, we held each other a while longer, then we kissed. Not passionate kisses, but light soft kisses, kisses to reacquaint ourselves.

One question remained for me. I was afraid to bring it up, but I wanted to understand. If she didn't want to talk about it, I'd let it go. But I had to ask.

"What happened?" I asked.

Mia took a long deep breath and let it out slowly. The change in her since her reappearance this morning, and even from when she awoke from her nap a few minutes before, was astounding. Not back to Mia from four months before, but she looked truly alive. "I will tell you as much as I understand. The rest we may learn someday or not." A dramatic pause. "But do you think we could get something to eat while I tell you? I haven't eaten in months." I laughed loudly and for the first time in four months I did not feel a dull ache in my stomach.

"Pizza?" I asked and hit the speed dial on my phone. Half an hour later the doorbell rang and a minute later we were munching pizza on the floor of my bedroom. During the wait, we kissed a little more and then Mia asked if she could take a shower. She said she wanted to feel the hot water on her skin. I was tempted to ask to join her but thought better of rushing things. Despite everything, she was still weak -- otherwise she probably would have skipped the pizza and materialized something more befitting a joyous occasion. When she heard the doorbell, she turned off the shower and emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bath sheet. She was pink all over and steam was rising from her (very thick) brown hair. Her eyes lit up when she saw the pizza box and she scarfed down two pieces before uttering another word.

"Much better," she said. "Right now I'll take sustenance any way I can get it." She let a dainty burp escape her lips, smiled, and then began the story. "Like I said before, I still don't completely understand what happened. Or more precisely, why it happened. What happened is pretty simple to explain. We generated more energy than I was able to handle and I lost control." I nodded as if I had any idea what she was talking about.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" she asked teasingly and whacked my leg with the back of her hand. "I'll try to spell it out. Do you remember when I was floating in the air and you were going down on me -- which I guess is the wrong term since you were actually going up on me -- and you were using the longer tongue I gave you? You drove me to an unexpectedly powerful orgasm and because there was more energy created than we could handle at that moment, you ended up spontaneously cumming yourself." I remembered every second of it, every sensation. "Your orgasm was the result of too much energy with nowhere else to go. I got carried away with your enthusiastic tongue, you got aroused by my arousal, and instead of absorbing the excess or channeling it somewhere else, some spilled over. The hose filled the bucket faster than the bucket could be emptied."

Mia grabbed another slice and between bites said, "That was an example of a small scale spillover. You had an intense if unexpected orgasm. What we created later when we made love was a dangerously massive spillover."

"Why?" I asked. "I mean, it was amazing. I never felt anything so exciting and soothing and, well, anything so right before. But how did that become some kind of meltdown?"

"Spillover," she corrected, "and I'm getting to that but bear with me because this will be hard for me. Before we made love, I asked you who and what you desired. I tempted you with people and positions that men would kill for. I was fully expecting you to take the opportunity to fulfill a grand sexual fantasy with a glamorous or sexy or slutty dream girl and try every sex act that you never had the courage to ask for. And that would have been fine, truly. When I say that I live for that I am not exaggerating, and you know that by now. I live to create and share positive energy. And the amount of energy that can be created by living out your wildest fantasy is incredible. That's what I was expecting, and more importantly, that what I was prepared for." She took a deep breath and tears welled up in her eyes. "But that's not what you asked for. You asked for me. Not since my early years, when I was discovering my sexuality, had anyone chosen to be with just me. Because granting wishes and indulging fantasies was second nature to me, I thought of all of those people and roles I offered as 'me'. But you didn't ask for that."