The Witch Ch. 01

Thanks to SexyKitty_B for editing.

My name is Jack, and I am an 'independent legal consultant', which is a fancy term for problem solver. I basically use the law creatively to get a specific job done, no matter which side of the law my client is on. As I have never been bothered by things such as a morale center, compassion or remorse, I was damn good at my job!

As a result, I had a booming career, a fierce reputation, a huge house and three cars to show for my hard work, not to mention a gorgeous trophy wife, Tina. Granted, she only let me near her pussy once a month, but still, I was doing better than most men my age.

This story started when I was hired by a land developer, who was having trouble with one of his projects. He had acquired some land next to a series of old houses, which he had started buying and demolishing, incorporating those properties into his prestigious project. Unfortunately, one of the home owners, a middle-aged black woman, refused to sell.

My client was willing to pay a price well above market value, but to no avail. All attempts at negotiation had failed. It was time for a different approach. Four out of the six luxurious villas of the project were already completed, and construction on the remaining two, as well as a large, green oasis and two tennis courts were now at risk.

If no deal could be struck with the last home owner, my client was going to start hemorrhaging money. I was brought in to find a solution as quickly as possible. The first thing I did was send over a representative from the bank to appraise the property again. There were already two appraisal reports on file, but this time I would be tagging along.

Officially, I was there to provide legal support, but my real focus was to find leverage for one of my 'creative' solutions. If, for example, the building was not up to code, that would give us an edge. I had yet to come across a house which was one hundred percent up to code, but just in case, I had a few other aces up my sleeve. Fire and safety regulations, a 'sudden' rodent infestation, blackmail, an inexplicable fire... you name it; my big bag of tricks was pretty much endless.

In this particular case, the home owner was somewhat of an enigma. There was very little factual information available about her. Most of it was rumors and speculations. Some believed she was a devil worshipper, others that she was a witch or a voodoo priestess. I soon realized that I was going to have to figure this one out all by myself.

The guy from the bank was waiting for me in front of the house when I got there.

"Good morning. I'm Harold McEntire," he said, introducing himself.

"Jack Desmoin," I replied as I shook the guy's hand.

"Alright," he said, as he opened his file, "Let's see what we've got here. Esmee Nicolson, 47 years old, no known relatives, husband was a cop, killed in the line of duty 14 years ago. Living on his pension. Looks like an open and shut case to me. She'll never sell. We could have saved ourselves the trouble of getting out of bed this morning."

"I am more of a the-glass-is-half-full kind of guy, Harold," I replied, "Could you give me fifteen minutes alone with her?"

"Uh yeah," he replied confused, "And exactly what is it that you do?"

"I am a... legal consultant. I consult." I replied cryptically.

"Riiiight," Harold smirked, realizing that the less he knew, the better.

After ringing the door bell and introducing ourselves, Esmee glanced us up and down briefly, then reluctantly invited us in, telling us in advance that she wasn't going to sell. The first thing that I noticed was that she didn't look 47. Granted, she could have done with a haircut and some new clothes, but still, it was obvious that she was a good-looking woman.

After making us a cup of coffee, Esmee joined us in the living room. When Harold asked if he could take a look around, she agreed, but then added - for a second time - that she wasn't going to sell. While Harold walked into the next room, making notes on his iPad, Esmee looked straight at me. Her stare felt weird; it was as if she was looking straight through me.

"Were you born in this house," I asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

"No," She replied, not giving any more information.

"So, your husband was a police off..."

"Don't talk about my husband!" she interrupted me, not angry but just determined.

"Alright then, I'll get right to business," I stated, "You realize you're in the way of progress, Mrs. Nicolson. My client just wants to build some homes so families, people with children can live here. Why would you want to stand in the way of that?"

"Families, children, yeah right... those houses are for the super rich," she replied.

"Those people have a right to live somewhere too," I replied. As I was too much in love with the sound of my own voice, I didn't pay any attention to her hand, grabbing a handful of purple dust from a little box on the mantle piece.

Suddenly, she leaned forward and blew the contents of her hand into my face, as she quickly recited some words in a language I had never heard before. I stumbled back into a nearby chair, trying to get my bearings. The room was spinning and all of my senses were scrambled for about ten seconds - at least what I perceived to be ten seconds.

"Jesus Christ woman, what the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted.

"Apologies Jack," she chuckled, "I haven't dusted in a while."

"Bullshit, what the hell was that?" I insisted.

"You're the one, Jack," she whispered, "The one I've been looking for."

"What are you babbling about, woman?" I asked, ready to get up and leave. But then, Esmee bent down, grabbing the hem of her long, plaided skirt and raised it all the way to above her waist. As I gawked at her, shocked and stumped, she hooked her fingers behind the waistband of her white briefs and pushed them down, letting her skirt fall back into place.

As she kicked her panties under the couch and sat down, I stammered, "Wait... what?"

"Ssssh, don't speak," she replied, shutting me up. As I heard Harold walking around in the kitchen, Esmee grabbed the fabric of her skirt and started crumpling it up, slowly raising it, showing me more and more of her black legs. The whole time, she kept looking at me with an intimidating confidence.

After about forty seconds, her black cunt came into view. She held her skirt against her stomach with one hand, making sure that I had a clear and unimpeded view of her black twat. As we heard Harold leaving the kitchen and heading up the stairs, Esmee used her free hand to pull up her sweatshirt, as far as it would go.

When she subsequently pushed her loose-fitting white bra out of the way, I now also had a clear view of her saggy, black tits. Then, she grabbing her right nipple between her thumb and index finger and started tugging on it pretty harshly. My cock was bulging in my pants by now.

"Look, I..." I stammered, not sure what was going on here.

"Take out your camera," she blurted out.

"What?"

"Your cell phone," she said, "It has a camera, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, start taking pictures of me, like this," she blurted out, as her one hand continued groping her tits and the fingers of her other hand wandered down to her clit.

"I... uh... I can't do that," I replied, realizing I could get into all sorts of trouble for this.

"Start taking pictures or I'll scream," she said, rubbing her clit feverishly.

"Why?" I asked confused as I took out my phone, aimed it at her and snapped a pic.

"You'll find out in due time," she replied, "More, come on!"

I did as I was told and continued taking pictures... of her tits, of her fingers rubbing her clit, of her contorted face and her tongue lewdly hanging out of her mouth.

Then, suddenly, she orgasmed right in front of me. After shuddering and panting for about ten seconds, she simply squirted on the floor right in front of her couch.

"My god," I gasped. I had never seen anything like it. Baffled, I stopped taking pictures as I gawked at her climaxing, not two meters away from me.

As we heard Harold wandering around upstairs, she quickly readjusted her clothes and asked, "Are you hard?"

"Yes," I whispered, not seeing the point in lying.

"Have you ever had a black pussy?"

"No," I whispered, "But I am married..."

"I know," she grinned, as she reached down to grab her panties from under the couch and slowly pushed them into my half-open mouth, without any resistance from me. Next, she reached for my zipper, undid it and fished out my enormous erection.

"You ARE hard," she grinned as she pushed me against the back of the couch and straddled me. She reached under her long skirt and guided my fat cock into her black, soaking wet snatch. Without further ado, she pushed herself down on it and started riding me, slowly.

I gawked up at her face, hardly believing what was going on. As she kept riding me, she took off her sweater, pulling it over her head, along with her bra. I stared at her large, obscene tits as she continued to ride me. What the hell was I doing? I was married. Why was I cheating? With a woman twice my wife's age? And with someone else in the house?

Although I was nervous and confused, I didn't stop her. I let her fuck me for nearly ten minutes. When I realized I was going to cum, I tried to get out from under her, figuring she wouldn't want me to cum inside of her. But I was wrong.

"No, don't," she moaned, putting her right hand on my shoulder, "Cum in my pussy."

Hearing her say the word 'pussy' was enough to push me over the edge. I closed my eyes and started pumping my cum into her, while trashing and shuddering uncontrollably underneath her.

When she was sure I was fully satisfied, Esmee slowly dismounted me and just stood there for about ten seconds, pulling her skirt and sweater out of the way, so that I had a clear view of her saggy tits and of my cum running down her right inner thigh.

"Your friend is waiting," she suddenly said, as she started getting properly dressed again.

I quickly took her panties out of my mouth, threw them on the floor and got up. Then, after stuffing my dick away and zipping up, I stumbled towards the hallway. There, I noticed Howard standing in the middle of the stairs, heading down, not moving a muscle - as if he was frozen.

Then, I heard Esmee mumble some words, causing Howard to start moving again, apparently not realizing he had been frozen. Disturbed, I glanced back at this strange, black woman, wondering if there was some truth to the whole voodoo-thing.

I hurried out of there, along with Harold.

On our way to the car, he asked, "So, how did it go? Is she going to sell?"

"I uh... I don't know, she is special," I replied, still in shock.

"Look, there's a good chance we'll lose if we take her to court," he admitted, "You're pretty much the only chance we have."

After saying goodbye to Howard, I went straight home, calling the office from the car to let them know that I wasn't feeling too well. My wife, Tina, was in the garden, having one of her high society parties, so I retreated to my study to think about what had happened.

The more I thought about the case - and Esmee in particular - the hornier I became. Before long, I was tugging my big cock, looking at the pictures I had taken of her, per her request. After pumping my fat dick for well over ten minutes - I was less than twenty seconds away from ejaculating in my waste basket - I suddenly stopped as a single, clear thought popped into my mind.

I wasn't going to lose this case and blemish my reputation... just because she'd fucked me. I pulled myself together and drove back to Esmee's house, determined to blackmail her with the pictures she had asked me to take. The closer I got to her place, the bigger my erection became. It was getting increasingly more difficult to concentrate as every drop of blood seemed to be going to my dick.

I inelegantly parked the car and staggered to her house, where I found the front door ajar. I barged in, too horny to think straight and found her in the living room, just standing right, looking at me, as if she was expecting me. I took out my massive cock as I gawked at her.

"My my," she whispered, glancing down at the biggest erection I had ever had. She reached out to wrap her hand around it, giving it a gentle tug. Still believing I was in control, I grabbed her hand and lifted her arm up into the air, grunting, "What the hell did you do to me?"

She didn't reply and just giggled, mocking me. I lifted her arm even higher, making her stand on her toes as I used my other hand to pump my enormous cock and said, "You think this is funny, bitch?"

She ignored my question and just continued giggling.

"Pump that big white dick of yours... let me have... show me who's boss," she whispered. I couldn't believe it. She wasn't even the least bit impressed with my show of force. It all seemed a game to her. I started pumping even harder, not really having another choice.

"Yeah, that's it!" she smiled as she was really struggling to keep her balance, awkwardly tiptoeing left to right and back again, "Give it to me... all over me... all over my clothes."

I went off like a fire hose after that. I aimed my cock at her and just blasted away, one fat cum rope after another. It landed all over her skirt and her sweater.

As she looked down, grinning, she quickly used her free hand to pull her sweater up and expose her naked tummy and her bra, saying, "Yeah, all over... cum all over me!"

I quickly re-aimed my cock at her chest and started shooting dozens of drops onto her bra and her black, naked stomach. She grinned and moaned, clearly loving every second of it.

When I was empty, I let go of her hand and was about to squeeze out the last glob and let it drip onto the floor. Esmee surprised me once again by promptly sinking to her knees, leaning in towards my crotch and saying, "Here, use my face."

Not about to turn down an offer like that, I put my hand on top of her head and used my other hand to drag my cock across her pretty, black face. I squeezed out quite a big glob of residual sperm, smearing it clear across her left cheek, over her nose and her right cheek, up to her right temple.

No longer overwhelmed by lust, I stepped back and tried to make sense of what had just happened. I had never been so wild, so fucking horny and so nasty before. I knew Tina would never let me get away with any of it, let alone all of it at once...

And yet, Esmee obviously didn't seem to mind one little bit. She just sat there, grinning up at me, massaging my goo into her skin and her clothes, thereby ignoring the fat line of spunk running across her entire face. My god, this woman was a slut!

Now that I was thinking straight again, I started putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Those pictures... you knew... you planned this!" I whispered, as I zipped up and stumbled backwards out of the room.

"What the hell did you do to me?" I yelled at her from in the hallway.

"I'll see you later Jack," she chuckled. I turned and rushed out of there, slamming the door shut behind me. I jumped in my car and drove off. What the hell was going on? What had this witch done to me? And how could she have known about the pictures?

But more importantly, why was she doing this? Accommodating me? Letting me treat her like this. Eventually, after contemplating the matter for quite a while, I decided that it didn't matter. I was going to have myself replaced in the morning, as I was clearly too emotionally involved.

I drove around aimlessly for another two hours, trying to clear my head. Unfortunately, it didn't work. I couldn't get Esmee out of my mind. And to make matters worse, I was starting to get frisky again. Was she causing these erections somehow? And if so, why was she doing that?

Before long, I was squirming in my seat, thinking of Esmee and of her black pussy. I fantasized about getting on top of her, boorishly mounting her and fucking her hard and rough, in her narrow hallway, not even taking the time to reach her more comfortable living room.

I ran a red light, for the first time ever. That's how impatient and fucking raunchy I was! I took out my hard dick as I stepped out of the car, not caring if anyone was around to see it. Although I clearly remembered slamming it shut, I found Esmee's front door ajar, again.

But what shocked me even more, was the fact that Esmee was lying, butt naked, on the hallway floor - right where I had fantasized about her, just now in the car. How was this possible? I didn't really have time to think about it, as her legs were opened wide and high and I was staring right into her moist, black twat.

I stripped off all my clothes as quickly as I could and climbed on top of her, coarsely ramming my hard dick into her, just like that. She didn't speak or utter a single sound - exactly as I had fantasized - and just took my hard thrusts. She kept her face turned to the left and just stared frivolously at the nearby wall, seemingly unaffected by what I was doing.

My sole objective here was to cum as quickly as possible. And that's exactly what I did. Barely forty seconds after getting on top of her, I arched my back and shot my sperm into her willing pussy. I grunted, gave her a few hard thrusts goodbye and then got off of her.

I got up, turned towards the front door and was about to walk out, when Esmee surprised me by sitting up straight, pressing her nose into the small of my back and reached around with both hands, cupping my balls with her left hand and grabbing my flaccid, mucky cock with her right.

"You don't have to go yet," she whispered, as she stroked my cock once, making it instantly hard. I gawked down, stunned. Well, if I needed any more proof that she was a witch, there it was. My god, what the hell was going on here?

"Save the questions for later," she whispered, "Turn around."

Questions? What questions? I thought to myself as I turned in place. Esmee kept her mouth right where it was, opened up and let my cock slip into her mouth. Without further ado, she started sucking me off passionately, slobbering over the whole length of my shaft.

Although my fat cock head quickly started thumping against the back of her throat, she refused to stop or move her head back even a little bit. As if coughing and gagging around my cock non-stop wasn't nasty enough, she suddenly grabbed my hands and put them on her head, nudging herself down even further on my cock. Was she serious?

Too horny to care or object, I started using her mouth to pump my dick, pulling her up and down the full length of my cock, gagging with nearly every thrust. As she never even grunted or tried to pull away, I suspected that she loved every second of it.

After four long, lewd and disrespectful minutes I arched my back and filled her slutty, black mouth with a fresh batch of cum. She swallowed and desperately sucked on my throbbing cock, wanting every last drop. Eventually, she let go and reclined against the wall, breathing normally. She wasn't even a little bit out of breath!

Overwhelmed by pleasure and confusion - and two orgasms was enough for now - I got up and backed out of the hallway, stuffing my spent cock away. I wanted to say something, like 'thank you' or 'goodbye', but everything I could think of seemed so trivial and weird. So... I walked out without saying anything.

I drove home, took a shower and watched some tv in bed, as my wife and her band of stuck-up twats were still at it downstairs. I fell asleep thinking about Esmee. In the morning, I was, as usual, hard as a bone.

I looked at my wife, half on her back beside me, with her eye mask on. I thought about waking her up for a quick fuck, but I knew better. So, as usual, I took a cold shower and made myself some breakfast, which I ate as I watched the stock exchange.