Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I Put a Spell on You.*



   I was just enjoying a tea before catching a late train home that night.
Every once in a while the workload does a number on your head and you can
hardly manage to crawl out of the office.  I was sitting at a booth in the
mall beneath the station and was just starting to come alive again.  Old
Bob the owner makes the strongest coffee on the planet.  From his tattoo's
I'd think he's an old navy man, and it was sure a mighty fine cup of
coffee.

   When speaking of fine, in the store walks this tiny slip of pure natural
sun worshiped blond, wearing hip huggers slung down real low, showing her
belly button with a shining gold belly ring.

   I'm telling yeah son.  If there is ever a contest for low cut blue
jeans. You know, the kind that show your assets, from your ass to your
grass patch.  This women would win that ,show and tell contest, hands down.
I would have seen hair, if there was any to see.  As it was, her pussy lips
were prominently budging the front of those skin tight mini jeans.

   And Oh Jesus .  What a tidy little perfect body that evil angel, carried
for a weapon.

   She had the smallest waist, you could easily wrap your fingers around
her middle, and the cutest toes, perfectly painted, rich dark Royal Purple,
peeking out from her, expensive, two inch heel, natural Spanish leather
sandals and her tank top style blouse was a silken wisp material, faded sun
yellow, eight inch coverage, struggling to hold in the nicest little set of
titties.  Two hard puffy nipples, showed through the silk.

   And Pretty . . .  <-- deep breath.

   God man; I'm telling Ya.  She was so Goddamn pretty!

   I thought I'd risk a glimpse at her face.

   You see lads, and lasses, and whatever.  When you get past fifty , you
have to be dam careful how you look at them young ones.  I've even
received, annoyed glances, thrown my way by women in their 30's .  Some
women, do NOT like being starred at by an "old man" .

   So I innocently raised my head in her direction as I reached for sugar,
I actually didn't need.

   My hand never made it to the sugar rack.  Surprise of surprises,

   She was looking right at me and there was no mistaking that look by a
woman.  She was checking me out seriously.  I mean she was!  Seriously!

   I almost fell off my fucking chair.  Good thing it was a bench.

   She turned away embarrassed as I just starred back, with a stunned look
I suppose.

   I hurried back to reality and hid my nose in my newspaper and sipped,
inner prospectively, on my coffee.  Thinking, my gripes, she can't be any
older than fifteen and Holy Mother what a face, an angel's face.  Not one
piece of steel showing, as is so common nowadays!

   Just four little gold and diamond earrings.  Glimmering as mini
spotlights, framing the angelic vision.

   Yup!  Some Pretty Little Lady She was..



   When I felt the bump, as someone settled into the booth seat behind me.
My old ticker amost stopped.

   Could it be her?  Right behind me?  If so, it had to be a deliberate
move , the place was pretty big, lots of booths and empty, everyone else
was rushing home.  My heart started to beat faster and I glanced at the
door.  Home was starting to seem like a real nice safe refuge about then. I
have fantasies, but don't like, jail cells.  And this little, high spirited
filly, was jail bait class.

   But something kept me glued to that seat.

   Moments later a mass of silken, yellow, long sun bleached hair. 
Swirling around that preciously cute face.  Popped around the booth at my
shoulder, and asked.

   "I forgot to ask for sugar and there's none at this table, can I borrow
some of yours?"

   I didn't, couldn't, say anything and just picked up the sugar rack and
tried to pass it to her, as her small hand reached in my direction.

   She fumbled it or I fumbled it.  Whatever, I don't know.  Anyway.  The
sugar rack went topsy turvy.  All over the place and a hundred little sugar
packs spilled out, All over the table and floor.  Mostly on the floor.  I
started to scoop them up from the table and she said.

   "Oh I'm sorry, let me help" and then bend under the table to get the
ones that had landed on the floor.

   My clean up operations came to an abrupt halt because one of those slim
little hands of hers had somehow ended up squarely on my inner thigh.

   I looked down and her pixie face was between my legs looking back up at
me, with a positively, wicked grin.

   She raised a single finger in front of her lips and made the universal
sign for me to be quiet.  I could have died as her hand slid up my thigh
and gently cradled my goodies.  My eyes widened, as did her smile, and her
gentle massaging soon awoke that stupid old beast of mine.  That old bugger
nowadays only comes up for a feeding once a month or so.

   Lads . . .I had on woody of all woodies, with no Viagra needed, and she
knew it.

   Then a noise behind me, made me glance around to see that the waitress
had finally decided to come over and see if she had a mess to clean up. 
And I quickly looked back down between my legs,in panic .  But; she was
gone and lifting my head back up.  I found her standing at the side of the
table, with rosy red flushed cheeks.  Looking at me, completely stone
faced, as she leisurely stoked back her hair behind one ear.  With one hand
and that, full of paper sugar packs.

   I smiled a weak grin at her and she smiled a challenging one back.  The
waitress arrived, asking if we needed help and I said yes.

   "Please bring the lady a fresh coffee, With sugar" and tapped, pointing
to the spot on the table opposite me.

   She left, perhaps in a huff, I didn't care, and the little lady looked
at me, head bent to the side.

   I gestured her, palm open, into my booth.  Desperately trying to think
of what to say to start a conversation.  Curse the age difference and a
million bands and musical eras, gone by, between us.  And this girl, she
didn't look like she was into sports, at least, ,not any sports that I knew
the name of.

   But, while I sat mesmerized, she wasn't and beat me to it.

   "Here's the deal.  Sweetheart.  You can touch me anywhere and you can
lick anything you want but no screwing and I don't suck.  Maybe, perhaps,
I'll give you a hand job or maybe a foot job later, depends on how I feel,
but only if you make me very happy, at least a few times, first.

   I was tongue tied and she held the lasso.  That tiny series of little
holes, between her legs was calling a sirens call to service and Oh Lord, I
was hankering to be a devoted worshiper.

   She slid off the bench stood up and said.  "I'll be waiting outside, for
one minute only .  Follow me."

   She walked out the door and I plondered a couple of microseconds before
fumbling for my wallet.  I don't know what the waitress thought when she
finally showed up with that coffee.  All she found was a fiver lying on the
table.  We was gone.

   The girl was waiting outside and seeing me, strolled off down the block.
I managed to catch up with her on the corner and had finally figured out. I
needed a bank machine.  So I politely turned to her and asked her if she
knew the location of the nearest one.

   She smiled at me and said "Sorry, No", and under her breath.  "You don't
need any cash.  I'm doing this for my pleasure.  Understand, I want your
mouth not your money.  Shut up and walk behind me.  Hurry up and Keep up, I
need to pee."

   I snapped my open mouth shut and took off after her as she rapidly
clipped along the sidewalk.  She turned one block, then a second or so and
soon turned and entered into a front guard secured, luxury apartment
building.  I hesitated a minute before going into the building and the
guard seeing me, buzzed me in, saying, "You Miss Linda's, decorator?  She
said to tell you to go on up, apartment 540."

   I was doing some serious thinking as the elevator carried me up.  Only
an FBI sting operation could afford the rent on this building.

   I knocked softly, on the closed 540 door, fingers crossed.  Electric
locks triggered and the door let me in.  I closed it behind me and entered
a apartment showing taste, youth and a very deep wallet for high quality
furnishings.

   I instantly knew that this was not a setup apartment of any agency. 
This place was the stage show for this young lady and the show was about to
Begine the Begin.  On her plasma tv, the Rolling Stones, pounded out
"Shattered" , live show 1978.  Music of my time, 20 years before she was
born.

   I heard her call out.  "Don't you just love the old stuff?, I'm in
here."

   As I walked down the hallway, the music stitched to "Good Times, Bad
Times - Led Zeppelin.

   The song matched my sentiments, exactly.

   As I passed the bedroom I glanced inside, she wasn't there or so I
thought, She called out and I peeked in and there was a door leading to an
en-suite bathroom.  I was just now a crawling along, the music switched to
"Head over Heels - Blue Rodeo.

   Yes Sir, this little vixen had a even a musical theme song for her
little spiders web of seduction.

   She was standing by the toilette , blue jeans at her ankles.  She
gestured me closer with a cocked finger.  I came like a dog, literally , I
think.  She pointed to the floor in front of her.  "Strip first, hurry."

   The music switched to "I can't help myself" - The Four Tops, as I
frantically shed my suit, tie, shirt etc.  The tile was not even cold on my
knees as I knelt before her.  She leaned her hips forward and nuzzled her
panty covered pussy on my nose.  Her hand, reached behind my head and drew
me into her softness.  Pulling so hard my neck was tilted back.  Essence of
hot, moist, horny pussy, filled my nostrils.

   I was in heaven and getting sucked in deeper.

   The music played "Its All Been Done." at least until she had my head
turned backward enough that she could kick off her jeans and slide her
crotch, up and over my body on it's journey to straddle my face.  The music
was drowned out by her thighs tightly gripping my head as her legs covered
my ears.  Still; I was able to hear the muffled tones of "White Room" -
Cream as she started to grind her panty covered, dripping wet cunt, against
my lips.  She Go-Go danced her hips on my features a swirling pattern of
slides, dips and circles that my face followed as a captive audience of a
Queen in her Queening, of me.

   Oh My.  The wet splashing, flowing from her, surprised me and I think,
her also.  Her whispered, horsed, passion voiced .  "Open your mouth; Drink
it!"

   Was a Imperial command.

   Water - Jim Reeves - Water, Water, Water, Cool, clear water.  All day I
faced the barren wastes without the taste of water.

   ~ Keep a moving Sam . . .

   The hot liquid scalded my throat.  Marilyn Manson - Sweet Dreams -
Scalded, in my brain.

   ~ Some of them want to use you

   ~ Some of them want to be abused.

   ~ Who am I to disagree?

   She finished, finally, and stepped off me.  Amazingly, there was not too
much wetness on my body nor the floor.  I felt like burping, my eyes were
stringing.  I watched as she bent half over and hooked her thumbs in her
wet panties and stripped them off, flicking them in my direction.

   "Souvenir, Sweetheart, Take a quick shower, I'll be waiting."

   Hot steamy water just fogged my brain more, into a mist of scattered
thoughts.  My hardon was painful.

   As I dried off , her

   "Common, You!"

   Hurried me into her bedroom, the nakedness of her loins, her gaping
pussy, called to me as her body in full leg scandalous spread array,
beckond.

   Her hips were perfectly positioned at the edge of the workbench that was
her bed.  She knew exactly where to position them for the loving, licking
homage and attention she was wanting.

   Hell I've been married three times and this lass knew more than any of
my wives ever did on gettin off.

   My knees now experienced the texture of the bedroom rug as my lips
started nibbling on her loins, lioness flesh.

   "Lick it." was commanded from above and I dove into the moist feast.

   Under my tongue her hips did the eternal dance of passion.  I licked and
flicked and sucked and nose nuzzled and tasted all, her little holes, front
and back and in between.  Demostrating to her decades of knowledge on how
to really, really please a women.  A full grown bull male's understanding
of every aspect of a females pleasure centres.  A slow tour de'force
presentation of digital expertise, coming from the tip of my tongue.

   Her coming, her spending, my reward.

   My brain played . . .

   Rolling Stones - You make a grown man cry.

   But the stereo played "You are my Special Angel" - Booby Vee and that
was just perfect, also.

   The clamping of my head and whimpers and groans, numerous times, as she
came again and again.  Made my twitching cock shoot off in self autofire.

   Look Ma, no hands!

   The final pushing on my head as she forced me away marked the end of the
most satisfy feeding on womenhood, I had ever experienced.



   She lay with one arm over her face and then lifted her head and looked
down at me, between her legs, still kneeling.  Waiting for instruction.

   Smiling; she lifted her foot until her toes touched my lips.

   "Kiss my toes, Honey, Make your self come, I want to watch."

   My stupid dick didn't fail me as I licked, sucked and laved her tasty,
tiny toes.

   After I finished I was panting and She . . .  was, very fucking Horney.
Once more and again.  She made me lick her to climax after climax.  Ending
up with my directed tongue deep in her puckered asshole for the longest
time.  Until I realized she was deep asleep.  I quieted washed up and
dressed.

   Slipping out the apartment door.  I noticed the post-it note she'd stuck
there, on the inside.  Her name and number.

   The band played . . .  Dickie Lee - I saw Linda Yesterday.

   The band played . . .  Dickie Lee - If you want to make a fool of
someone.

   The band player . .  On.





   SafeWord2005.  (Copywrit)

   All rights reserved.

   Authors note.  If anyone likes this a bit.  Look up my authors site. 
I'll leave the conversation door.  Open for comments.  Perhaps.

   * I Put a Spell on You - Creedence, Screaming Jay, Manson, and of course
my favorite version by Government Mule.

   Sorry about the editing or lack of same.