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having stolen my breath. My mouth opened in a silent scream as the pleasure crested over me and I came for a second time.
    Ray didn’t hold back this time. His slow rhythm became faster and disjointed before he slammed forward, spilling himself inside me and filling my grasping pussy with his come.
    The room was silent except for ragged breathing until Ray eased out of me and staggered to the front of the couch on shaky legs, tucking his cock into his pants as an afterthought as he collapsed onto the couch.
    “Fuck!” he exclaimed. “What’s your name, baby?”

Or try a taste of something very different. . .
     
     
    Witch Lust
     
     
    I knew every face in the village, and I had never seen his before. His eyes burned with a hidden fire as he crossed the threshold, shutting the door and blocking out the storm behind him. “Who are you?” I asked, my voice shaking as thoughts of robbers and savages filled my head.
    The man said nothing, and continued to stare at me with those burning eyes. I found myself drawn into them and the cabin and the whirling snow and thoughts of what my husband would do if he came back and saw me with a strange man all fell away.
    Warmth flooded my body. Back then, I didn’t know that the heat that filled my belly and spread between my thighs, dampening the secret place between them was arousal. I had never known any kind of pleasure with my husband, and I had been taught from birth that women’s bodies were places of sin, so I had never explored my own. Under his gaze, my nipples hardened and my breasts grew heavy with wanting. My pussy grew slick and the ache and need to be filled overwhelmed me.
    It’s a handy trick when you’re a witch. They’re called glamours, and a well placed glance and whoever that gaze is directed at is ready to spread themselves open for you to suck and fuck inside a minute. You see, that’s how we casters stay young for centuries. Sex with a mortal draws their life essence into us, and with every encounter we steal ten years. Some witches are cruel with this. They like the chase and the fear. They like their victims crying and begging for their lives, so they take their conquests by force. My maker had the same philosophy I do. We’re taking years from their lives so it’s only fair that we give them something back, the most pleasurable experience of their lives seems to be a fair enough trade.
    He walked forward until he stood before me, still firmly holding my gaze. “What are you called?” he asked, breaking the thick silence of the room.
    “Katherine,” I replied, my earlier fear long gone, and I found myself parting my legs wantonly, wanting nothing more than the feel this stranger’s hands slide under my dress.
    “I am Malcolm,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. “I will not harm you.” I sank into his embrace like a romance novel heroine. I felt the hard bulge of his cock pressing against my stomach, and for the first time I reacted with eagerness. Everything felt slightly hazy like a dream, and with the boldness that comes from an unreal situation, I let my hand drift lower to touch that hard bulge in the front of his trousers.
    He shivered and his hips thrust forward into my hand. I unbuttoned the fly of his pants and his thick organ sprung free. Malcolm’s cock was much larger than my husband’s. My small hand could barely encircle his girth, and I began stroking the length of it, my wrist seeming to instinctively know the motion that would bring him the most pleasure.
    I stole a glance at Malcolm’s face and saw the that his eyes were pure black. All the stories of demons and monsters I had heard in my childhood flooded back, but I didn’t care. He hadn’t even touched me yet, and I had already felt more sexual pleasure that I had experienced in my short life.
    Malcolm’s hand snaked under my skirt and immediately sought the wetness between my legs. Two seeking fingers slipped inside me, and, finding me dripping