Mia, the Kinetic Sorceress Pt. 05

"What DID change," she continued, "was everything I understood about transcendent energy, my abilities, and reality as I know it." She paused, then laughed. "Too dramatic? Maybe, but I'm still completely blown away by the whole concept."

"What whole concept?" I asked. "And use small words," I snarked. I had a feeling that I was going to have trouble keeping up.

"As near as I can tell, I went somewhere where my personal energy was completely enveloped by something bigger, infinitely bigger than anything I have experienced. My life has revolved around consuming positive energy to create even more energy and return it to the world. I've been tapping into a seemingly endless supply of positive energy; but what I felt dwarfed it. I wasn't tapped into this new energy, I was integrated into it. I became part of it. I was still me, still an individual. But I was part of something enormous."

She paused, that faraway look crossing her face again. Her orange shimmer brightened slightly and a ripple passed across it like a water droplet on a still pond. She went on, "As I said before, the feeling of being engulfed by this energy was perfection. I came away from it changed forever." She looked at me very seriously. "Achieving that feeling is something we should all aspire to. Now that I know it exists, I know finding it is my destiny. And since I know that it took the love of someone as good as you to find it the first time, you are also part of my destiny."

A somewhat panicked look crossed my face. Mia smiled. "Paul, you needn't worry, life is not going to become some obsessive attempt to find wherever I went last night. I know it's there and when the time is right, I'll find my way back."

"'Let your soul and spirit fly, into the Mystic,'" I sang to myself. Mia twisted her head in confusion. I laughed. "Seriously? You're 400 years old and you don't recognize Van Morrison?" She blushed and I suddenly felt badly about ribbing her so I quickly moved on. "It's a song. The lyrics popped into my head as you were describing your experience and our destiny together."

"I'll have to listen to it. But I like the turn of phrase. 'Into the Mystic.' Maybe I went where Van Morrison imagined. Who's to say?" she mused aloud.

"Maybe. Inspiration comes in mysterious ways," I agreed. "But one thing is still gnawing at me. You said that when the time is right, you'll find your way back, but that you need me -- my love -- to get you there." I really wasn't sure how to say this so it all came pouring out in a big steaming heap of words. "How can you wait until 'the time is right?' I just feel like it would be selfish of me not to do everything I can to help you be where you'll be happiest. You've lived for so long and for you to get a taste of, well, you called it 'home' -- how could I stand in the way of that for a second?"

"It's because I've lived so long that I know I must wait. I believe there is a reason for everything. There is a reason that I was born the way I am. There was a reason I happened to pass you on your bike that day. There was a reason that my momentary lapse came dangerously close to destroying us, but didn't." She took my hand and stroked it with hers. "And I'm sure there is a reason that I spent a short but glorious time in -- we'll use your term -- in 'The Mystic' so soon after we fell in love. And I'm sure it's not because I am supposed to abandon you. I am confident that we'll find out what we need to know, when we need to know it. And for now, we should enjoy the journey." She leaned in and kissed me. As I closed my eyes fading into the kiss I could see her blue eyes ablaze with silver light.

After we broke the kiss, I said "I still can't believe you don't know Van Morrison. You need to get out more."

Mia's face lit up. "I couldn't agree more. Where shall we go?"

I was suddenly stumped. Virtually all of my time that I had spent with Mia was spent alone with Mia. Sure, we went to a diner (twice) and the park (often) but even then we were essentially alone and just passing through. We had never gone "out" anywhere. The possibilities were endless.

But so were the questions. Do I introduce her to my friends? I had been unintentionally distancing myself from my friends for the past few months. Other than going to work, which had become simply an irritating interlude interrupting my time with Mia, I was having very little contact with my "old" life. I began to wonder if that was where this was all going, if I was going to fade out of my old life and live off the grid, so to speak, with Mia. I had handed my heart to a woman who could provide virtually anything -- shelter, sustenance, experiences both conventional and fantastic -- willingly; in fact, that's what she thrived on. Did I want to try to maintain my pre-Mia life or shed it like an old skin? Much to ponder.

But I didn't have to figure it all out right now, and certainly not alone. So for now, I needed a suggestion for "getting out more." As is often my strategy, I stalled for time so I could think.

"Well, that's a great question. Almost everything we've done together has either been relatively simple, like a bike ride or a walk in the park, or has been orchestrated by you. When you aren't planning experiences for the fortunate people in your life, what do YOU like to do?"

A thoughtful look crossed Mia's face. "Hmmm. Well, we were just talking about music. Can we go somewhere to listen to some music?"

That actually sounded pretty fun. It had been a long time since I had been to a concert. It hit me that there was literally a world of choices open to us. For Mia, taking us to La Scala, Lincoln Center, Wembley Stadium or the Sydney Opera House would be as easy walking to a nightclub downtown. Probably easier.

"Do you have a preference for type of music? Venue?" I asked.

"Something warm and wonderful! With good people just enjoying themselves," she said.

That didn't narrow it down much. "Can you, uh, get me my laptop?" I didn't know if Mia had wi-fi but assumed somehow it wouldn't be an issue. I barely finished the sentence before my laptop was sitting, well, in my lap. Mia shrugged and smiled sweetly.

I started doing a search for live music. The cookies on my laptop pointed the search engines to events local to my apartment first. I thought it would be fun to go somewhere exotic, but then I saw the perfect concert for Mia.

The bandshell at our favorite little park hosted concerts from local musicians. The schedule for the summer was eclectic, but on this particular evening, the philharmonic orchestra from the state college was performing Stravinsky's "The Firebird" suite.

"How do you feel about classical music?" I asked Mia. "The college is playing 'The Firebird' at the bandshell in the park." I knew Mia had a special attachment to that park; it was a key part of her recuperation from our "spillover" and our invisible tryst in the fountain was pretty fabulous, too.

"That sounds good, but I am not familiar with 'The Firebird.'" No Van Morrison, no Stravinsky. What DID this woman listen to?

I read from the blurb on the website: "Stravinsky's 'Firebird' is a ballet written in 1910. It tells the story of a young man who captures a magical bird that agrees to help the man in exchange for its freedom. The man falls in love with a princess but their love is foiled by an evil wizard. The Firebird helps the man defeat the wizard and win the love of the princess."

I looked up at Mia. "How does that sound?" There were tears welling in her eyes.

"Wonderful. Simply wonderful. Perfect." She smiled at me, positively glowing with appreciation. My laptop vanished from my lap, replaced by Mia with her arms flung around my neck. "Am I the princess, or the Firebird?" she asked playfully.

"Hmmm. A magical bird who helps a man fall in love with a beautiful princess. You're both, I think."

"I like that," she said and planted a sloppy wet kiss on my lips. It was heavenly. "What time is the concert?"

"9PM," I replied. "The article said to get their early to get a spot on the lawn." Mia gave me an "are you kidding?" look. "Right, we'll get there at 9."

"That means you can take me to dinner before," she squealed, clapping her hands together like a 10-year old who just got a pony. "Whatever shall I wear?" she asked no one in particular. I then watched in awe as 20 or so outfits appeared and vanished in succession on Mia, accompanied by perfectly matched hair styles and make-up looks. Several were quite revealing. And, several featured different colors of hair. And, most distractingly, different body features.

She seemed to settle on being a tall, busty redhead. She was easily 5'10", with a modest waist that served only to highlight her long slinky legs and full luscious breasts. Her hair cascaded in waves and ringlets over her shoulders, and her blue eyes absolutely glowed. Her nails and lips were a pale red and she was currently wearing a very short skirt and clingy top with a plunging neckline. I was salivating.

"Too much for the park?" she asked, grinning wickedly. I said nothing. "You're right, perhaps a little more demure." The skirt and top vanished, replaced by a pair of skinny jeans, boots, and a peasant top that somehow managed to show off her waist and a peek of boobs. Sexy. Casual. Devastating.

"Perfect," I said. "The red hair is in honor of the 'Firebird'?" She nodded, very proud of herself. "You look fabulous. But we'll run the risk of everyone looking at you and ignoring the orchestra."

"Don't be silly. No one at the concert will see me, but you. This outfit is for dinner only."

I suddenly wished it was 6PM. Until of course, Mia's night-out outfit disappeared from her body and appeared folded on one of the chaise lounges. In its place was a form-fitting, fire engine red one-piece swimsuit that accentuated everything and hid nothing. Mia blew me a kiss, leaped in the air, arms spread like a bird, glided over the pool, and executed a perfect swan dive. I didn't wait for an invitation. I ran toward the pool, shedding my robe on the way, and cannon-balled into the pool. Mia and I surfaced together facing each other. I wrapped my hands around her waist and she wrapped hers around my neck. And we kissed. Nothing else, just kissed.

As exciting and satisfying as sex can be, there is something deeply intimate about kissing. Our bodies pressed together, our lips and tongues exploring each other. It seemed like every time I held Mia in my arms I felt closer to her. I had shared energy and even physical space with her, but holding her like that I felt like I was sharing everything with her. And it felt good.

I closed my eyes, giving into the kisses and letting every other thought evaporate. Without even realizing I was doing it, the image of Mia's blue eyes popped into my head, with a thread of energy connecting me to them. I heard a voice in my head. "No Paul. You don't have to."

"I want to," I whispered aloud. "I will never withhold my love from you. For any reason. Ever." Mia smiled and hungrily kissed me again. "If it takes you, go with it. I'll be here." I bit her lower lip gently. "Besides, we have a date tonight. I know you'd never stand me up."

In response, Mia pressed herself harder against me, the slickness of her swimsuit sliding against my bare chest. I concentrated on the image of her eyes in my mind and imagined the beam of pale white light thickening and turning a bright orange.

It wasn't working. The more I imagined the beam growing, the smaller it got, until it was barely a thread. I was crestfallen. What had happened? Mia giggled in my ear. "Don't focus on the beam. Focus on the feeling."

I felt like a dope. When Mia was instructing me, the beam was a mental image, a visual aid to guide my feelings. The beam itself did nothing. I cleared my mind again and visualized her eyes and the white thread. And then I thought about Mia. How much I loved her, the magic and wonder of her. Every warm and loving feeling she had ever shared with me and every ounce of happiness I wished for her. The mental image of the beam began to thicken. I was encouraged by my modest success so I continued to concentrate on her, us, our lives, our... our destiny.

The beam hiccupped. The moment I thought about Mia going to the Mystic and staying there forever, I faltered. I couldn't help it. Phrases like "stay there forever" and "I was home" swirled in my head. I was afraid.

I was afraid for me. Seconds earlier I had told Mia I would never withhold my love and now, at the first sign of fear, I was proving myself a liar. The fear that had crept over me was joined by shame and, soon after that, regret. Is my love worthy of her? I grandly promised that my love was hers, but was I really promising anything of value? It didn't feel like it. It felt weak and brittle.

This was a watershed moment for me. I could tell myself that I was still getting used to the idea that Mia would eventually find her way back to "that place" and that all I needed was more time to fight off my fears. I wasn't strong enough now to do what was best for Mia but just give me a few more days, weeks, whatever and I'll get there.

Bullshit.

If I loved Mia, truly loved her the way I wanted to believe I could, I needed to conquer my fear then and there. If I couldn't risk my own happiness to secure hers then I didn't really love her. Mia sensed my conflict. I heard her voice in my head, "It's OK, Paul."

"No it's not," I said aloud. And, in probably the first truly selfless act I had ever done, I focused my entire consciousness on one single thought: I love Mia. If I lose her forever, or die of exhaustion trying to help her fulfill her destiny, I would be a better happier man than if I gave in to my selfish fear.

I could see Mia's eyes in my mind and I could feel my energy pouring into her. Whether it was my love for Mia giving me strength or my strength of will that caused me to pour out my love, I watched as the imaginary beam widened and started turning a blazing orange. What I found most surprising was how, after I had made the decision in my mind, it all became so effortless again.

Mia shuddered in my arms. It felt like she was building to orgasm, although I wasn't physically arousing her at all. She had often told me that positive energy shifts forms easily, that sexual energy breeds positive transcendent energy and vice versa. Apparently the energy I was pouring into Mia was, at least partially, manifesting as sexual energy. For my part I wasn't feeling the arousal she was, although being pressed against her body while she was building to orgasm was still pretty stimulating. Long contented sighs were escaping her lips between our kisses, which only fed my resolve to share as much of my love for her as I could.

There was no dramatic whirlwind of lights that formed around Mia like last time. If this was truly working, I had expected to see the same spectacular fireworks that we had experienced last night. Not this time. I opened my eyes and saw Mia throw her head back in apparent bliss. A tiny gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as her body dissolved into tiny points of white light. And then she was gone again, the water in the pool rushing in to fill the void, knocking me backward, sputtering, through the water.

I was alone. For the first ten minutes I did not have the same feeling of creeping dread that I had last night. Mia assured me that there was a reason she had been pulled back to me and I took comfort in that thought. By thirty minutes I had to keep repeating Mia's words to myself: "there IS a reason, there IS a reason." By 45 minutes I was beginning to think I may well have done the dumbest thing in the history of dumb things.

I wasn't sure just how long Mia was gone. It felt like an eternity but was likely less than an hour. With no fanfare, I saw a flash of light that quickly separated and formed the shape of woman, and before I knew it, Mia was standing in front of me again. She appeared to have lost her swimsuit somewhere in the journey and was no longer a tall redhead, having reverted back to her natural figure and appearance, but I didn't mind. Much like last night, she had a glow around her and a serene smile painted her face. Unlike last night, she did not appear to be ready to faint, as she sat down next to me, took my hand in hers and kissed me.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Fine," she said. "Thank you. I mean, thank you for doing that for me. It was amazing. And it all makes a bit more sense. Not everything, but some of it is clearer."

"Tell me," I urged.

"In a while," she replied. "Just hold me now." I slid my legs behind her and cradled her back against my chest, arms wrapped around her waist. We were both naked but there was nothing sexual going through our minds. OK, I'm a guy -- there was a little bit of sex running through my head. But mostly it was relief that Mia was back, happy and safe, and in my arms again.

We sat quietly and basked in the sun and the warmth of each other's bodies. I would occasionally kiss Mia's hair and she'd let out a tiny sigh. We both lolled in and out of sleepiness or at least sleepiness for me and probably quiet recharging for Mia. The hum of insects and singing of birds became noticeably louder, likely drawn by the soothing aura of positive energy radiating from her.

After an hour or so, of quiet reflection -- and maybe a little bit of snoring -- Mia unclasped my hands from around her waist and turned around to look at me. "I love you," she began. "And I will never leave you. If I learned anything else today, I know that is true." I didn't know whether she learned that by tripping back to the Mystic or by virtue of me sending her there. I didn't much care. Those were the sweetest words I had ever heard.

Mia pushed me gently back flat on the chaise. "Lay back and relax," she said. "Don't move a muscle. Let me do this." She swung her legs over mine and sat gently on my knees. She reached out and placed a hand on each side of my penis and started a light tender massage. I could feel energy pouring off her causing a sensuous tingle all over. I started to raise my hand to touch her and felt an invisible force push it back down. "Not a muscle," she whispered.

As one might expect, I became very hard very fast. I had been given strict orders and a not so subtle signal to obey so I did as asked and relaxed every muscle and gave myself over to Mia. When my cock was at its full length and beginning to throb, Mia slid forward, raised her thighs and lowered herself onto me. As I vanished deeper and deeper inside her I felt a growing intensity in the energy pouring over me; it windlessly swirled around the two of us. Mia squeezed her muscles around me. I was encased in her pussy. Slowly Mia raised her hips, sliding me a third of the way out of her, then lowered herself again, the grip of her pussy never diminishing.

There was no levitation. No enhancements. No ethereal hands or invisible lips. There was just Mia, looking as beautiful and tender and vulnerable as I had ever seen her. She looked into my eyes with a warm and hopeful expression, like she was hoping I was really enjoying what she was doing. That she could think there was even a doubt was endearing. I smiled.

As she had demonstrated on other occasions, Mia was quite capable of manipulating my arousal, keeping me on the verge of orgasm, teasing me to the very edge without letting me go until she was ready. I felt no such control this time. As my excitement grew, Mia increased her pace slightly, building me up without rushing or forcing anything. The combination of sexual arousal and the waves of energy washing over me was like a cocoon of contentment. It occurred to me that this may be how the Mystic felt to Mia. And why she was doing this to me.

When I began to cum, Mia lightly pulsed her internal grip on me and used her hips to guide me over the edge and through a series of gentle spasms of pleasure. If there is such a thing as a gentle orgasm I had just felt it. I didn't twitch convulsively; there was just a slow rhythmic release deep inside Mia. All the while, I felt my heart swelling and every nerve tingled. A full-body orgasm is the best way I could describe it.