The Witch's Cousins

Pulling on one hip, he urged her to turn over so that she was looking up at him as he straddled her, his weight on her thighs.

"And have I mentioned your breasts?"

"What about my breasts?"

"Only that they are ridiculous. Stupendous. Amazing. I won't make any claims to be an expert. Yours are only the fourth pair I have ever seen, and I didn't get much a look at Sandy's. But you must be using some sort of advanced engineering. They shouldn't stick out so much without sagging just a little," he smiled conspiratorially. "You're using a charm, aren't you?"

Agatha shrugged, which did amazing things to her chest, "Just a small one. Mom taught it to Hilda and me a few years ago, when it became obvious we were going to end up a lot bigger up top than her or your mother. I'm pretty sure Mom and Aunt Claire use it, too. We'll let Susie and Ellie know about it eventually. They don't need it yet."

He cupped one of the breasts in his palm, he swallowed thickly, trying to curb his lust, "Which brings us to your nipples. I love their dark color against your tan skin. I love the way they rose when you saw me. The fact that I know I can arouse my partner..."

My mate.

"...and that she wants to share her body with me makes me so happy I can't stand it. I know that the power is driving us together, Aggie. If you had club feet and a lazy eye, and if I looked like the Elephant Man, it would still make us mate. Hell, we would probably enjoy it. But the fact that you find me attractive makes me want to scream out loud.

"Which brings me to the last thing I find beautiful about you."

"What's that?" Agatha asked. John's litany of her virtues had her nearly weeping. She took a tissue off the nightstand and wiped her eyes. Thinking quickly, she also grabbed a clean washcloth and bottle of water that someone (Susanna?) had left there. Working a quick charm, she warmed the water and used it and the washcloth to clean John's crotch.

Susanna had him last. I know he loves her, too, but I am not going to screw him when he is still covered with her juice.

"You, Agatha. You are beautiful. All of you. Your mind, your body, and especially your personality. You are kind and decent and caring and you love your family." John leaned down until his face was only inches from hers. "You are beautiful, Agatha Maureen Chamberlain, and there is nothing about you that I do not love. Will you be my mate?"

Agatha cupped his face in her hands and drew him down into a kiss that seared their souls.

"Yes, John, I will."

She pulled him down to her, trying to devour him, his lips, his tongue. She was drowning in his scent. She fisted her hands in his hair so he could not draw away as she explored his mouth with her tongue, running it along the insides of his lips, then darting deep into his mouth to do battle with his. Her heels hooked around his legs, trapping him on top of her.

He finally broke away, dropping a trail of kisses down her neck until he reached her chest. Teasingly he laved her breasts with his tongue, but stayed away from her nipples, which were turgid with want. He kissed the delicate skin above her breastbone, delighting in the feel of her breasts on his cheeks, their weight in his hands as he squeezed them against his face.

"Oh, John, darling, please. The nipples..." Agatha groaned.

You did promise to try to make her happy, John thought with an inward smile. He hovered over her breasts. Lowering himself slightly, he blew hot breath on one of her nipples, then flicked the tip ever so slightly with his tongue.

"More, damn it," she growled, and John started in earnest, laving her entire areola with his tongue, watching her nipple tighten further, then closing his mouth on the delicate, swelling bud, sucking it and loving it with his lips and tongue. His other hand sought to duplicate his mouth's motions, using his thumb and forefinger to stroke up and down the length of her other nipple, then giving it a little pinch as his teeth closed on the other with a tiny nip.

Agatha flinched, and her breath hissed between her teeth. John looked up to meet her frown.

"Not that," she said.

John nodded, "Of course, golden girl." He smiled, "Like I said, this is all new to me. If I do something you don't like, tell me. I need to know." He bent back to her breasts, more careful now, all fingertips and tongue-tip and delicate stroking. She writhed beneath him as he worked.

By the Goddess, he was incredible! The nerve endings in her nipples were on fire with pleasure as he played with her. She spread her legs as far as she could and ground her hips forward, trying to create some friction which would satisfy the hungry burning in her groin. John's hand left her breast and she moaned in disappointment, even as his mouth drew on her other nipple, sucking gently, applying just the pressure she wished. His hand danced across her belly, soft as a birds' wing, paused briefly at the bare rise of her pubis, then covered her pussy, cradling it like a precious gift.

He raised his head from her breast and looked at her. Knowing what he sought to do, she nodded happy acceptance into his eyes, smiling at his grave expression. He rolled off of her, lying on his left side, and she turned and faced him, lying on her right. She reached down and with trembling fingertips traced the dimensions of his cock as he eased two fingers into her hungry love-hole, thumb caressing her clit, heel of his palm pressing firmly down onto her mons.

Explorers in a new country, they were all but voiceless as they brought each other up to and past the pinnacle of pleasure. Agatha's strokes grew bolder and more sure as she jerked him off, moisture leaking from his slit to lubricate her pumping fist. John had to close his eyes and bite his lips to pull himself back from the brink. Pushing the wonderful sensation into the back of his mind, he concentrated on Agatha's pussy, keeping his strokes long, slow, and sure, ball of his thumb dancing on her button.

"Oh Johnny," she gasped, "Please..."

"Please what, cousin?"

Hearing the word of their illicit relationship threw another bolt of hunger through her body, "Your fingers. Curl them inside me as you...as you...as you stroke oh Goddess yes! Yes! Yes!" she shrieked as John felt the muscles of her vagina clenching around his fingers. She drew her legs up and hunched into a ball, filled with wracking spasms of joy as her orgasm washed over her. She felt John holding her, arms wrapped around her shoulders, raining kisses down on her face, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her.

The last tremors exited her body and Agatha knew it was time. Without a word she lay back and spread her legs for her mate. She looked up at the gentle, sweet, impossible man above her, her cousin, her lover, her mate.

He plunged into her, moving slowly, oh so slowly, careful of her sensitive flesh, braced on his arms above her, keeping his weight off her chest. His strokes were long and slow, prolonging the delicious friction between them. No sooner was one stroke done than another began. No frantic pounding, no mindless urge to come. She saw that her pleasure was his, that the sight of her lust-filled face was more important to him than a quick fuck.

The proof of his love and desire intensified her own. She felt the warmth of her love expand from her mind through her body, filling her every crevice with joyful heat. Above her, John paused, the throbbing heat of his cock a warm bar inside her. Agatha frowned.

"Why the hell are you stopping? Keep screwing me, dammit."

"Ummm. Agatha?"

"What?"

"You're glowing."

"What?!"

Agatha held up her hand in front of her face. It was true. A golden light was coming from her skin, casting faint shadows in the dim light of the room. Above her, John's face was suffused in awe.

"I've never..." his voice trailed off.

"Neither have I," she said, "But I don't care if I glow green like a Halloween witch. We'll talk about it after we're done. Now fuck me, dammit. Our part of the ritual needs to be closed. If we stop with this much power inside us, we'll probably blow out every transformer in six blocks."

Hearing her serious analysis of the possible repercussions of their actions made John laugh softly. Bending down, he kissed her again, and kept his mouth on hers, softly ravaging her mouth as he pumped her with his hungry cock. Unlike Susanna and Claire, she did not wrap her legs around his and restrict his motions. Rather, she hurled her legs wide, allowing him unfettered access to her sweet pussy. He looked down between them, the sight of her cheerful depravity pushing him closer to the brink. He felt his come boiling up the length of his cock, his balls tightening, muscles flexing as his rod grew, expanding to seal her entrance and to keep his seed inside her.

"Aggie, I'm going to..."

"I know, my love. Do it. Come for me. Seal the ritual. Become my mate."

Her words pushed him past all restraint. With a wordless shout of joy, joined by hers as she came again, he emptied himself into her in a lightning-swift thunderclap of pleasure.

#####

Three miles away, a stand of ash trees, infested with the emerald ash borer, an invasive species from Asia, stood dying. They had been tagged for removal by the end of the following week. An invisible wave washed over them. Suddenly, a convulsive movement wracked the trunks. Tens of thousands of beetle larva were violently expelled, peppering the land about as with a shotgun blast.

The Des Moines Department of Public Works credited the trees' miraculous recovery to an insecticide treatment which had been made the previous year and had, somehow, not been recorded.

The oldest tree lived for one hundred and thirty years afterward, and was seen as one of the great local tourist attractions in Des Moines in the twenty-second century.

#####

"Damn," said Sybil, still sitting downstairs with Claire. As the power of John and Agatha's joining had built, both had shed most of their clothes. Unashamed, they were gently masturbating, their pleasure building off each other.

"Told you so," her sister smirked.

"No wonder the Dark One wanted him so badly. I knew it was going to be powerful, with six of us, but..." Sybil's body twitched towards the family room and the stairs which led up to John. Closing her eyes, she begged the Goddess for calm.

"Agatha would never forgive me if I went up there now," she muttered. She hastily pulled up her pants. "I'm going to open the store. I'll see you later?"

Claire nodded. "I'll come in later on, after Aggie has left. I'm not leaving John alone with anyone until the ritual has been closed for all of us."

Sybil smiled, though her t-shirt was dark with perspiration, and Claire could smell her arousal through her jeans. "Three down, three to go. Who do you think the power will choose tomorrow?"

"Sister mine, I have no idea,"

####

In the bedroom above, unaware of the conversation below, John and Agatha held each other close. They were on their sides, Agatha's back nestled against John's chest. Crooning with satisfaction, Agatha grabbed John's hand with hers and pressed it against her breast. She sighed softly.

"That's so nice. I've always loved snuggling this way. It makes me feel safe."

John smiled and pulled her closer, kissing her neck softly, her hair tickling his nose. He felt an unfamiliar sensation in his groin. Looking down he saw that his cock was lying flaccid against his thigh.

"Well, that's a relief," he said quietly.

"What is, Johnny?" she asked, confused.

"My dick. I've had a raging boner ever since the end of the game last night. It didn't go down after I fucked Susanna or Mom last night, or Susanna again this morning. I was beginning to worry it was permanent," he said with a smile, kissing her shoulder. "It was going to make the last couple of weeks of school pretty damn awkward. Not many guys are comfortable dressing next to a guy with a hard-on in gym class. To say nothing of the baseball team. Kind of hard to take batting practice with an erection," he said, as she shook with giggles underneath his hands.

"Well, you might be relieved, but I'm not. Once is not going to be enough for me, John Chamberlain," she said, reaching back with her tiny hand to grasp his cock. With firm strokes she massaged it, thumb rubbing over the sensitive glans, coating the head with the juices that remained from their love-making.

"Mmmm," she moaned, as his dick grew under her fingers. "I've always loved doing this. It seems like a special kind of magic, one that one can only do with a lover." Erect, his penis pressed into the cleft of her buttocks. His hips began to rock, sliding his phallus in and out, the tight globes of her ass cradling his sex, pushing back gently against him as his moisture lubed her cheeks, his hands gently kneading her breasts. He mistimed a stroke, and she flinched away from him.

"Not there," she said.

"I wasn't trying to," he protested, "I never even thought about it."

But now that she mentioned it...

"Agatha, have you ever...?"

"Yes, once," she sighed. She moved back against him to show she trusted him, reveling in the feel of his hardness against her. I'm going to have him again, she thought, her hands covering his, urging him to squeeze her breasts harder, to work the nipples. Her pussy ached, wanting him. "It was when I crossed, that first crazy weekend. He was a decent enough sort, or I never would have taken him back to my dorm room. We had fucked so many times that my pussy was raw. But I still needed more. He suggested that he fuck my ass. He had never done it before and he was curious. So was I. Of course, in the state I was in, he could have suggested damn near anything and I would have been okay with it.

"So we lubed up and he put a condom on and he tried to put it in. He was smaller than you, John, but it hurt. I made him stop right away and ripped off the condom and gave him a blow job to thank him for stopping.

"Thirty minutes later Mom came blowing through my room like a tornado. That's the last time I was really able to connect with my sexuality. Until today."

She reached down between them and eased his cock into her pussy. She groaned with delight. She had always liked this position the best, so easy and relaxed. She stretched lazily under his hands, pressing her breasts into his palms, her arms high over her head. She reached back with one of her legs, hooked it behind his knee, and used it to guide him into the rhythm she wanted. She let him keep his left hand on her breast, but pulled his right down, down, down her belly to her cunt. Her lips were spread wide by his beautiful shaft, spearing into her pussy, and she guided his fingers onto her clit, pressing the heel of his hand into her pubis.

Sweat pooled in the small of her back as his fingers worked happily in her folds, making soft sounds as their bodies danced. The muscles of her belly rippled, gathering strength. Her breath grew shorter. Behind her, she heard John groan softly as he neared his own peak.

Inevitable as the tides, sweet as a soft rain on sun-parched ground, their orgasm swept over them both and dropped them both over the edge into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

As her sister screwed her cousin, Hilda pounded down the street, getting in the roadwork that she needed to keep her body fit. Acclimated to exercise by years of practice, her legs kept up a steady, ceaseless rhythm, while her mind was free to explore other avenues of thought.

Damn him anyway, she scowled fiercely as she turned off Grand and onto McKinley. The young day was already warm and humid, and sweat ran down her shoulders and into the small of her back and from there into the crack of her ass, dampening her spandex jogging shorts. The rubbing of her sports bra against her breasts, usually a sensation that she enjoyed, only served to heighten her frustration. Who does he think he is, to suggest that we move in just so it could make his sex life easier?

She put on a burst of speed to beat a yellow light. She was nearly halfway done with her five-mile run, and would soon have to turn back to Aunt Claire's house. With any luck, she could avoid being invited inside to be subjected to her sister's and cousin's happy, self-satisfied faces after they got done fucking. Ordinarily, her morning run typically amped up her already overactive sex drive, which the daily potion did little to restrain. Today, she knew she needed something to take the edge off her hunger. She ran through a mental index of men she could call, but rejected them all. They paled compared to John's siren call.

By the Goddess, she moaned silently, Is this is what is going to happen to us? Is Johnny's crossing going to ruin all other men in our eyes? I can't get by with getting laid only one day out of six, no matter how good the sex is on that day!

And Hilda had no doubt that the sex had been fucking fantastic. She had seen enough well-fucked women to recognize that Susanna and Claire had been well and truly pounded the night before. And if that hadn't been enough of a clue, the sight of her goody-two-shoes sister all but raping her cousin in front of them all at the kitchen table would have served as ample proof of just how strong the attraction was once she had been chosen.

One more block, she decided, then I'll turn around. A few hundred yards in front of her, she could see a tall young man, his hands full of pamphlets, walk dejectedly down the porch steps and into the sidewalk. He was dressed in a button-up white shirt and tie, heavy black slacks, and a suit jacket. As she drew near, she could see that his brown hair was spiked with sweat, laying damply over his forehead.

Poor bastard, she thought. I wonder what brand of fundamentalist bullshit he's peddling today? She moved into the grass, passing him with a vacant nod.

And nearly fell sprawling, as she was hit with a sense of power as strong as anyone in their coven.

Gasping, she turned around, thinking that she must have been mistaken. Opening her inner sight, she cast about for another, any other possible source of the electric pulse of power she had felt.

There was nothing. The only sources of mystical energy on this heat-baked street were herself and the man climbing yet another set of steps to stick another pamphlet into a door handle. A pamphlet, Hilda was sure, which would be tossed into the recycling bin as soon as the owner saw it.

Jogging slowly after him, drawn by the insatiable need that all Chamberlain women felt for men of power, she checked out his body from behind.

Decent ass, she decided grudgingly. Tall. That's nice. Even a decent set of shoulders on him. But way too skinny. She moved up to where he stood, waiting patiently for the streetlight to change. She jogged in place, enjoying his widening eyes as he took in her skimpy clothes and lush body.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully, hoping to draw him into conversation.

"Morning," he nodded back. His eyes, she noted, were a pale blue, set in a face that would have been pleasant were it not for an incipient sunburn. His hair was straight and short, and could not decide whether it was very light brown or very dark blond. He took a deep breath, as if he was launching into a speech he had long-ago memorized, but still hated. "My name is Steven Johnson," he mumbled. "I am a member of the Tabernacle of the Eternal Savior. May I give you my testimony?" he concluded hopelessly, holding out another of the wretched pamphlets.