Possessed by a Witch

Without another word, Amanda had lowered her open mouth over my erection, swallowing it all again in a single gulp. She had closed her lips tightly just above her fist. When she relaxed her hand, my load exploded upwards,. She somehow managed to pull her head up at just the right speed that her lips caught the last spurt and she was smiling up at me with her cheeks full, lips glistening, and a strand of goo connecting her chin to my cock.

Amanda swallowed a gulp of seed, but still retained enough that her palate was dripping as she spoke. "Now, Daddy?" was all that she said, all that she needed to say.

She was tiny and lifting her across my lap was easy. As I turned her to face the hardwood, her skirt flipped up of its own accord. Her sodden panties were buried in her ass cleavage, so I left them in place, knowing that each stroke of the flat of my palm might drive the fabric deeper into that sensitive cleft, priming her for intense fucking.

I began by rubbing my well callused hand across the tender pink flesh, warming her for the punishment to follow. My fingers teased the cleft stuffed with silk, and trailed down along her wet cunt lips, as I wound up for the first blow. The echo of flesh on flesh filled the still country night, and although we were inside and the nearest neighbours were miles apart, I wondered who might have heard the perversion of our painful pleasure. As the last reverberation bounced off the wall, Amanda sighed contentedly.

"You liked that, you nasty slut?"

"Yes, Daddy, because I'm naughty and know that I deserve it."

Her excitement spurred me on to strike even harder, drumming her taut rear with ever quickening swats. Sure enough, this had caused my cock to stir, until the head was rubbing up against her thighs. However, she was no longer in a hurry to be fucked.

"Keep ...going...Daddy..." she gasped, "I'm... al...most there."

I reached my other hand under Amanda and tweaked her erect nipple pulling it steadily away from her breast, and then releasing it as I struck her with all my might. This finished her. Her back arched up so quickly that she bounced off my lap, tumbling onto the floor in a heaving heap, her juices flowing so freely that they puddled on the floor. Luckily, hardwood cleans easily, and I had the foresight to have applied extra waterproofing.

"Fuck ...me......Daddy..." she panted, drawing up her knees and ripping her panties off.

Her urging encouraged me to quickly shake my legs out of my jeans and drop to the floor between my bride's legs, and plough into her with my rigid rod. Her pelvis bumped up, slapping back loudly against the wood, each repetition faster and louder. Having just come, it took a while for the second load to marshal itself inside my balls, so I took advantage if the delay to take each nipple in turn between my teeth and twist them, causing further joyous screaming from Amanda, as I felt her abdominal muscles crunching and releasing through a series of climaxes.

Finally, the dam burst and a goodly amount of thick white spunk flooded out my shaft into her depths, filling her womb. Still relative newlyweds, I wondered afterwards whether that sort of semen dump might promote impregnation, but it hardly helped that even before my weapon finished pulsing, Amanda had flexed her hips, bumping me out of her vagina, goo still oozing from my tip.

"Eat me clean," she had demanded. I happily complied, since cream pie was always one of my favourites.

"Mmmm, better than pumpkin," I recall murmuring between licks as I snaked my tongue all over her body, bathing her.

First, I cleaned her thighs, licking inwards towards the source. Then, I flicked my tongue briefly towards her anus, knowing that no seed was there, but practicing for the day which I knew would eventually follow, when her rose would be filled. I captured a trickle from the very bottom of her labia, and then rimmed the petals, working counter clockwise in decreasing circles until I was buried nose deep into her womanhood, my mouth slurping and sucking the mixed juices from deep inside.

Amanda's midsection had continued writhing in response, until, just as I realized that I could no longer taste the saltiness of sperm, and was only lapping up her peachy nectar, she sighed again and collapsed on the floor. She was sleeping before I could lift my head, and I allowed myself to rest with my ear on her thigh. The nap lasted until the rooster crowed and the sun rose on the first day of that chilly November.

When I awoke, Mandy was just stirring awake as well, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The little girl outfit made her look barely legal, and my manhood swelled afresh in appreciation. However, whatever spell the Halloween moon had cast was passed, and Mandy quickly pulled herself upright, tucking the abbreviated skirt around her thighs and rushing towards the shower alone.

I started breakfast, and then left her to finish once she emerged scrubbed clean like a virgin, and dressed like one also, in baggy overalls and sloppy T-shirt. I excused myself to do my chores, and we never spoke of that Halloween treat.

That evening, we retired early, as farm coupes do. Amanda had then reached over, and found my hardness. Taking me in her hand, she had silently rolled over. Without a single word, she rode me, her hips straddling mine, the tip of my cock bumping deep into her womb. Each stroke, she pushed higher and crashed faster, her back finally arching in ecstasy. She placed her hands on my shoulders and grunted, grinding her pelvis around my wood until I spurted out a load. Then still without a word, she rolled clear, and slept with her head upon my shoulder.

In the months that followed, we had enjoyed a rich and varied sex life, but there was never role-playing, nor any mention of Amanda's premarital adventures. Gradually, the memory of that Halloween faded, though it never vanished to the pint of forgotten, and it always warmed my loins to think of that special night.

The following Halloween, I had no expectations of a repeat, but, to my pleasant surprise, Amanda came downstairs in the evening dressed as Raggedy Anne, looking for 'Daddy'. She entertained me by finishing the story of her history prof, and told about another adventure with Cassie. The night concluded yet again fucking on the hardwood floor. That year, I fell asleep with my cock buried in her ass for the first time ever.

Each year that followed, Mandy had come up with different costumes, but each played off the naughty daughter, and each year I learned more about her closeness with Cassandra.

Until the drunk driver had ended my Halloween fun.

Cassandra and I had both cried beside the grave, but when I had reached out an arm to hug her, she had recoiled in horror. "What sort of perv are you?" she asked, "trying to fuck your wife's best friend before the grave is even filled in?"

Which had not been my intent, but I guess in Cassie's world, hugging is reserved for foreplay.

Dressed all in black then as well, she had kept her distance from me, hanging with Amanda's family, and a few other school chums who had made the journey. I did not try to get up close. We really were strangers, having only met at the wedding and a few other occasions. There was a little voice in my head warning me that Cassie might tell me tales about Mandy's trips to see her that I would rather not know. Then, I was ashamed, as I thought about the possibility of my voluptuous blonde wife and this tall lean raven haired beauty double teaming some random young stud pick that they had picked up in a bar, that my cock started to swell. I had glanced at Cassandra to see if she noticed, though why I cared I had no clue. Fortunately, she was busy talking to Old Man Dalrympyle, the farm implement dealer, whose eyes were feasting on her well cantilevered cleavage, bursting a tad inappropriately out of her low cut dress. To make matters worse, that sight had made my tumescence grow harder, and I had quickly scuttled out of the community hall where the reception was being held.

Then a week ago, I had received a phone call from the airport. It was Cassandra. "I never realized Hicksville would rate its own airport. Mind you, a place where they unload all the luggage right beside the plane is hardly O'Hare Field in Chicago." She had said at the time.

"We just need a place for the crop dusters to refuel." I had replied automatically, before I recovered to ask, "What the heck are you doing here?"

"I knew we would both be miserable about missing Mandy, so I decided we should at least be miserable together. Besides which, Paris is boring this time of the year. I wanted a good old fashioned American Halloween."

"Well, not much of that around here – a little kid's party at the Legion, a few pranks. You missed the pumpkin growing contest. That was yesterday."

"Did you win the pie eating?" Cassie jabbed back, perhaps a bit more pointedly than my remarks. Again, I wondered why she had come, since she really didn't like me.

"I'm not actually a big fan of pumpkin," I replied, treating her cutting remark as a light joke.

"A bad experience waiting for the Great Pumpkin, Linus?"

I chuckled. Peanuts had been a childhood favourite, I was amused that Cassie shared that spirit. Then she dashed the ship of fools upon the rocks. "Or did some girl refuse to let you get past second base in the pumpkin patch?"

"I always was more the Charlie Brown sort."

"Pooor baby. Good thing only a little bit of my hair is red."

"Say what?" That caught my attention. Cassandra hated me, I figured. How would she care about whether she treated me like the Little Red-Haired Girl treated Charlie Brown? I figured her more for Lucy, pulling away the football, so I was not about to get my hopes up. I noticed that my cock was rising up as fast and full as a harvest moon. A year of celibacy sure had a strong effect, with an erection arising with Cassie fully clothed, and though not hostile, not behaving seductively either.

"Do you like my hair?" she said, not quite explaining herself as she twirled across the room, dancing with the broom, until it slipped loose. She let it drop, and spun on, arms thrown wide, her locks spinning like a cloud around her head, obscuring her face, but then suddenly parting like curtains, revealing a wicked grin. The dim light caught the red highlights, which flowed with her movements, adding another layer of otherworldliness.

"Spooky" I croaked, unsure just what was expected.

"We should have some fun," she continued, snapping her fingers. She danced closer, and then spun away.

"I'm not really up to doing much." I replied.

"Mandy would never let you be such a dud. She'd hate me for allowing it, too."

She spun faster, darting a bit nearer to my chair with each revolution, and not going quite as far away. On about the fourth pass, she paused and bent low, one claw equipped on each of my knees, her pale face inches from my nose.

"I might just cast a spell over you and eat you up like a gingerbread boy if you don't behave."

Finally, the loose end of her cloth belt slapped across my cheek. Without thinking, my hand rose up. Maybe the instinct was to guard my face from another slap as she spun, but my fingers closed over the flying strip of cloth. I did not tug at it; at least I did not think that I did. Probably, it was the force of Cassandra's own motion that pulled the tie loose. As she spun around again to face me, the wrap around dress flapped open, revealing that she wore a sheer black demi cup bra, which pushed her tits together, and half way up her chest towards her chin. She was rail thin, and in my brief glimpse, I almost had time to count her ribs. On the few occasions we had met I had always assumed she was flat chested, but the engineering of her undergarment maximized the effect of what she had.

Perhaps I just imagined that her nipples were hard, pushing out against the lacy fabric that trapped them. My mind filled in a chocolate brown hue of puffy areola around each tip, but the colour really was disguised by the bra, if I really had time to see anything. Similarly, I recall her wearing lacy blood red panties trimmed in black, but in reality she twirled around again so fast that all I could swear that I saw was a flash of white bony hip, and my brain supplied the rest, deciding that she was likely wearing a thong.

Cassandra did not stop twirling just because her dress was loose, but one the next revolution, one claw held the front shut, fluttering in the breeze her motion created. She was teasing me, intentionally or not, with quick glimpses of pearly flesh, contrasted with the dark clothing and sexy underwear.

From somewhere deep within my house, I heard Stevie Nicks singing "...wouldn't you love to love her..." I realized that I had not played the cd since she had died. Cassandra must have been going through Mandy's things while I napped.

"I think you are a lot like that poor black cat tonight...feeling alone and lonely, wanting to howl at the moon. Well, you aren't alone Daddy."

Did I hear right? Had Cassie called me Daddy?

While I was still processing this development, Cassie finished one lat twirl, her dance ending right in front of me. Her black dress still hung loosely, teasingly offering glimpses of her flesh.

Without another word, she dropped to her knees as Stevie sang "she's like a cat in the dark..." Cassie placed a hand on each of my knees and pushed them apart as she rose between my legs.

"You are under my spell now," she whispered, like the wind.

Her hands roamed up and down my thighs, warming my flesh right through my jeans. Despite the weirdness, my cock was lonely indeed, and rose to the occasion, the blood filling it so quickly that I became even more light-headed. Was this just a dream? Perhaps I was just sleeping in my chair in front of a warm fire. If it was a dream, I hoped that I might awake to find that the past year had just been a nightmare, that my Amanda was still alive.

The breath warming my lap seemed too real for a dream, and Cassie's fingers on my zipper could not just be imaginary. The release of that constraining pressure allowed my erection to burst out upwards, sticking out like a flagpole. Cassie bent forward, the witch wig hiding her face. I didn't even have to close my eyes to imagine that it was my darling Amanda who said "If I stick that thing in my mouth, Daddy, that would be nasty. Then you might have to spank me."

"I bet that you would like that, you naughty slut," I responded automatically.

Cassie's tongue flicked tentatively across the tip of my head, like a kid forced to taste a strange flavour of ice cream. A single drop of precum glistened on her upper lip when she looked up, her fist now clenching my root.

In the background, Stevie still sang, the cd on repeat, "...will you ever win..." as Cassie pumped my shaft briskly.

"I'm not really that into guys, I'm just doing this =for our Amanda," she said, looking away, out the window. "I wonder whether her spirit is in that cat. Because if I hadn't seen it, I sure never would have had the nerve."

I was distracted and puzzled by how Cassie had first identified me with the cat, but now thought it might be Amanda. Maybe Cassandra really was a witch, because she seemed to read my mind.

"I think that the cat connects that essential shared element that completed Amanda when she was with you, and the other way around," Cassie explained as she licked her lips hungrily. "She was always happy to head home after our adventures."

"Was she a naughty girl when she was away?"

"She was only nasty with you, Daddy."

Without another word, Cassie lowered her head and opened her mouth so wide that her lips barely grazed my ridge as my helmet slid into her throat. Her tongue teased the underside of my shaft, and she playfully nibbled around the base as I experienced her deep throat technique. For one who claimed not to like guys, she obviously was no rookie. But then I knew that from some of Amanda's tales.

"Come on now, after al those times you ate each other and fucked yourselves with dildos, you must have played together for old time's sake."

I thought I saw Cassie's head nod 'yes' as she tried to talk with her mouth full. I reached down the gaping open front of her dress and tweaked her left nipple roughly to capture her attention. She grunted in pain and lifted her face up, spitting my cock out.

"What the...."

"Behave, naughty girl."

"Yes, Daddy," she said, remembering her role.

"Answer my question now, please."

"Mandy liked to play with me, and I played with others. But her cunt belonged to Daddy."

I twisted her nipple harder. "How about her ass?"

"That belonged to me most of all. Even though she let you fuck her ass, Daddy, she found you too big. I had a strap on just the right size. Sometimes though she preferred that I use the two forked one, and the big vibrator head would stimulate her clit while the small rotating finger diddled her asshole. She came buckets then. Those were the only times that she said I gave her better climaxes than Daddy."

I got a little catch in my throat picturing my sweet wife howling in pleasure without me, and felt some resentment that Cassie had shared that all these years. My cock however, seemed to enjoy the image, as it grew even fatter, and my balls pulled up into my groin.

"I know that Mandy and I were naughty, not sharing ourselves together with you, Daddy, so I think you had better spank me."

In a single motion, Cassie rose from her knees and slid the loose black witch costume to the floor. She turned around and bent over, grabbing her ankles, presenting her bony ass half a foot in front of my face. Three thoughts raced through my brain. First, I compared Cassie to Mandy, whose athletically maintained figure had included a perfect heart shaped ass – enough to hold onto, or paddle, but not a spare ounce. Then, I had an urge to lick the glistening pussy lips dangling between the spread thighs. That gave way to a shudder of shame, which in turn reinforced the mandate to punish.

My hand rose from its resting position on the arm of my chair, gaining momentum as it arced to meet Cassie's flesh. She was not well braced, and staggered slightly from the force of the blow, which landed a bit harder than I had intended.

"More, Daddy, I've been very bad," she whined, bending deeper.

Intellectually, I felt shame and revulsion at my actions, but the precum leaking from my peehole, and the seed urgently ready to burst forward, suggested that at the basic instinct level, I wanted to hurt Cassie for some reason, especially since the pain seemed so pleasant for her.

"Yes, Daddy, punish me," she begged, removing my hesitation.

I alternated hands, using my full arm to gain momentum. Each strike of flesh upon flesh rung loudly in the otherwise empty house. Cassie gripped her ankles tightly to keep her balance. Occasionally, she yelped from the pain, but mainly her squealing seemed joyous.

"That's...uh...just...what I need...I mean deserve...I've been a very bad little girl."

After about a dozen swats, the moisture dripping from Cassie's pussy was puddling directly on the floor, her thighs soaked to her knees. I returned my hands to the arms of my chair. I noticed how heavy they suddenly felt, suggesting that I had been spanking Cassie much harder than I had ever punished Amanda. Still, though her ass was glowing red, she seemed to be happy, mewing kittenishly, her hips rotating, waiting for more.

Except I did not raise my arms. I could not resist any longer Gripping the arms of the chair, I used my hands to lever my upper body forward and without a word buried my nose between her buttocks, which allowed my tongue to slide up her open cunt like a stiff cock entering a ready and willing fuckhole. The gyrations drew me in deeply and quickly. My lips suckled her labia. I opened my mouth wider and nipped at her tenderness with my teeth.