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As coolly as I can manage, lift my eyes to him, "What do you want?" I wanted to lean back against him, touch him, smell, brush against him. Reassure myself. I mean it has been four days since we have been 'together.' I look back, and those eyes say it all. "Just seeing what you two beautiful girls are fixing." Though he says it to me and the whole time his eyes are on me, and the warmth of the gaze, as we shared a truly loving connection. An entire conversation carried on as Suzanne dutifully lists the menu. So, we have this, a world of connection. Anywhere and anytime we are together. Our eyes, secretly so silently acknowledging our secret life, that it is OK, that he wants me. That we will figure things out, that we are in this together, that we are in Love. All occurring in this whirlwind of motion. Like it CAN all stop, where WE are the ones frozen in space and time. While we are together, alone with one another. I laugh at myself as he pokes his head in two more times, sees his. ‘I have a door key,’ she reminded him, ‘and there’s a bed upstairs, remember?’ They didn’t get as far as the bed. Once inside the door, Anne pushed Stan against the wall, one hand playing with the buttons on his shirt and the other questing at his fly. Her mouth crushed against his, and he kissed her back eagerly. Stan was amazed. He’d never known Anne so eager. Even earlier that day, when she’d pulled her panties aside while bent over the chair, she’d been less horny than now. Anne’s left hand slid inside his shirt, having undone two of his buttons. Stan moaned as her fingers played with the hair there. All the while Anne was playing at his crotch. She slid down the zipper of his trousers and pushed her right hand inside, feeling for his dick. ‘Anne, if you don’t stop…’ Her only answer was to slide to her knees. She undid the belt and clip at the top of his trousers, slid his briefs down a little and took his dick in her hand. Stan gasped at the touch, and then gasped again as he.
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. and such a pretty dream you had," Esther said, stroking my long hair (was there a hint of desire there?). "It almost makes we want to cast a spell and see what you were before, but I promised my brother not to." I was a fat, bald, 52-year-old banker," I told her. "I was lonely, miserable and unloved." I don't know why I told her... but part of me was determined not to be ashamed of what I was. Maybe because for the first time in my life I was happy with who I was. Maybe because part of me ached to please this beautiful witch."Well," she said, flustered for the first time. "That's an image I'll do my best to forget..."She sounded gruff, but I could tell that she was pleased that I told her."You can, of course, go back to that life if you want," she said."And give up this body?" I asked."There's that... but your new body comes at a price," she said. "Do you want to know what it is?"I nodded, fearing the worst."Very well, the cost is one year of service to me," she said. "You see, I.

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