Witching Hour

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Twice is Nice

Samantha stood outside the store, rocking back and forth on her shabby sneakers. She wanted to go in, but settled for watching through the doors at the scene before it. And listening. With more than simply patience to goad her to stay still, to stay silent, and to enjoy the show.

Aya and Mahna were doing what siblings do best.

Aya stormed around the counter, still screaming mid-stride, not even wavering as her heels bounced. Samantha did not recognize the language, though felt it was more at home weaving sultry, tawdry ideas than most likely the vehemence and venom being spat, instead. She wrenched at Mahna’s shoulder. He had left her unfinished there at the counter, pulling out before she had reached her loudest wails, and made an attempt for the door. Now he was a victim to her clawing nails, stretching his gray sweatshirt.

Mahna spun on her, and boomed out such vile, evil things in that language –at least, if Aya’s paling face was any indication. She backed into the coolers and sidled along them. It wasn’t long before she was out of sight, and finally allowed her brother to leave the store... Though she did peek around as he left. It was almost wanton, envious as he made for Samantha. She gave Samantha a sad, bitter smile before Aya slammed the door, making the glass shudder, the bell above ring into the night, and only then did he seem to breathe, and break his stony visage.

He whistled a little as he sighed, already panting. Already hot and heavy, and she didn’t even cause it! It was a wonder more mist didn’t rise from him; his brow was bright red, glistening with sweat under the flickering streetlight.

He pulled at his belt, its silver buckle shining so bright against his black jeans, tucked into a pair of polished boots. He took off his sweater, revealing he had on a dark blue T-shirt, pressed and tucked perfectly, completing the task of making her look absolutely casual. In fact, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked over her, at her exotic silk night pants and her expertly selected, just flimsy enough lace top. Her white bra peeked at the shoulders, the right even twisted a touch, off-kilter due to the hooks in the back, digging in as she squirmed in place, fighting the urge to scowl.

“What’s with that get-up?” He said at last.

Samantha scoffed, and leaned forward –and hoped he didn’t see that the hooks had given entirely and her bra was slowly sliding down her front. She cleared her throat, hiding it with another scoff, and snapped up, crossing her arms underneath her beauts. And catching their keeper before they could slide any further.

“Like you’re one to talk,” she grumbled, thanking the cold wind for cooling the heat in her cheeks. “Remember our first date, Mr. Sweatpants?”

“Not really. It was how long ago?”

“O-only a month! Your memory must be terrible.”

“Maybe. Who are you again?”

She stuck out her tongue as she slapped his shoulder. “Meanie.”

He simply chortled, still sighing –which she was finding annoying; who sighed that much? Really... “Well, I can’t take you to the restaurant in that get-up.”

“What? Why! I still look better than you did.”

“No, no. It just won’t do.” He let his arm drop, shrugging as he did, and stopped his arc right before her, holding out his hand.”Looks like we’re just gonna have to go on a long car ride and enjoy the scenery, then hit the cafe along the way home.”

She groaned, taking it, and swayed into his embrace, leaning against him.

“If that’s how it’s going to be, master, then so be it.”

He rolled his eyes, but hugged her, chuckling. Samantha allowed herself to be lead to his car once again, but, this time, she wasn’t doing so without a fight. She bumped against him, slowed down, sped up, their laughter rolling into the night. Time and again her vision swept low, and she couldn’t help but notice that his pants were a bit slack. The belt was loosed enough to let his shirt bulge a touch, settling as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Though she attempted to straddle him, dear Samantha was forced to endure the pain, the agony, the isolation of walking around to the passenger seat and get in. On her own. She wasn’t sure she could handle such a fate, but, as the car whispered on the asphalt, as the engine rumbled through the streets then roared onto the highway, with only stragglers to deal with this night, washed under the full moon, she finally deduced that she would live and grow from this. Would she learn from it? Have you met her? She wouldn’t let this hold her down; instead, she would look towards the future... with the occasional glance through the window before she returned to the point in between Mahna’s legs.

And what did Mahna think of this? Why, he wasn’t paying attention. He was too focused on the road, on the ever looming highway. A true gentleman, to focus on the task that could mean the difference between life and death. He pulled off time and again, finding serene hills and valleys to simply sit and talk with her under the pale moonlight.

Thanks to Aya, no topic was hindered. The true Mahna was now unlocked for her to know. For better... and worse. It turned out he was a Seahawks fan, preferred the cheddar flavor over the cool ranch of a popular tortilla chip brand, found fireworks pointless, hated cop dramas, absolutely adored incest porn.

And dated Bridget, Lola, and Tanya.

“Wait. What?” Samantha blurted. She almost spat out her root beer, instead dribbling down her chin. Mahna had called it something else, but, no matter how he spun it, it was still root beer. Simply a fancy root beer, though he argued for easily an hour otherwise. Samantha couldn’t help but keep him going; she found him absolutely cute when he showed passion. It was a far more enthralling sight than Valley Overlook 85,242. Once you’ve seen one, you saw them all.

But, of all topics, all bits of info he gave her, she couldn’t let that go. She sat up a touch on the blue-and-white checkerboard blanket, looking him in the eyes as she dug in her heels and knees. Hard. Now would be a very bad time to roll down the hill, and, knowing her luck (and the chirruping little traitorous fuckwad of a dragon) that would be the time for it to happen. It swooped by, squawking at her sudden rise, its wings bounding and rippling with the cool night air.

“So,” she stated, “you dated all three of my friends?”

“Yup,” he said, though garbled through a mouthful of hot dog. He swallowed it with a sigh (AGAIN WITH THE SIGHING), chuckling. “I’m surprised. They didn’t tell you?”

“Quite the opposite, in fact. They said you never showed any interest.”

“Well! THAT is an outright lie. I dated Tanya last year.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Nope! We were steady for... two months? Three? Was it last year, or the year before? It has been some time, but we did ‘date’. It was more a fling, really; she kept going on about another guy, but was still with me. Thought everything was going fine, then... nothing. No calls. No visits. If it wasn’t for the fact I saw her going back and forth with the others to the Academy, I thought she died or something.” He took a drink, shaking his head. “The next time I actually did run into her, I decided to go the apartments and finally check what the hell was going on. If anything just for closure.”

“Why? Was it a bad date or something before?”

“I didn’t think so. We went ice skating. She had two left feet on the ice, but by the end she was solid. Under the moon, soft, classic pop playing; it was... almost heaven.”

He chortled; she forced one. She still wasn’t done probing, after all.

“So what happened,” she asked.

“That’s just it: I don’t freakin’ know! But when I knocked on her door, she acted as though we never even knew each other. She was trying to flirt and get my name... and didn’t understand my boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

“Oh. I guess we never got to that subject, huh?” He nudged her shoulder, and winked at her. “We talked about porn, but never our experiences. Or lack thereof in my case.”

“You’re a virgin?” She exclaimed.

“Technically. I’ve never put it in before, but everything else... I’m simply saving myself for the One. I thought Tanya could be that One; third time’s the charm and all-”

“So you dated her last?”

“Lola was the first. We dated... five years ago? We were solid for a year, then all of a sudden she was calling me an elf. An elf!”

“And that makes Bridget the second?”

“Nah. Decided to date my hand a year. It was sort of an abusive relationship; we’re still off-and-on, if you know what I mean.”

She snorted, and pushed him back. “Pervert. Smart ass.”

“I try... She was a year after Lola. We... had a bit of fun. She was my first taste of anything sexual. In truth, I really... really wanted her to be the One. She was so kind, caring, sweet, loving, and grounded.”

“Definitely that last one. She’s our rock.”

“Nah. You are even more stable than her.” She bit back her laugh. Tasting blood. He was being serious... which only made her taste more blood. His smile turned melancholic, the shine in his eyes twinkling a touch more, making them seem to dance with the heavens above. “Then, just like the others, it was like our first time seeing each other. She got so offended when I tried to give her a kiss... I couldn’t believe it. The woman that was talking about marriage and family... calling me a ‘creep’ for a simple peck on the cheek. My sister, Aya, had to step in and ask what was wrong.”

“And?”

“And... it was like she was a completely different person. Like they were completely different people. I just... I gave up on them. I want nothing more to do with that trio... Then I saw you.”

He squeezed her hand, making her groan and roll her eyes.

“So cheesy.”

“You love it and you know it.” He kissed her hand, and hauled her to her feet as he stood. He rolled the blanket under his arm, heavy with mud and dew from the other hills they had rested upon, and lobbed it into the backseat before getting in the car. “Come on. Let’s get back to town... and Sam?”

“Yeah?”

… He simply shook his head. She said nothing else, leaving her wanting, waiting as they returned to the highway. She checked her phone, 02:35 blinking on its front a moment before consumed by message upon drunken message from the three. They even sent a few... pictures. Bridget’s face was flushed, almost beet. She was looking away as the other two had raised her shirt, showing off her bright red tips. Lola’s and Tanya’s faces, though, were far redder and even paled those nips. They were making kissy faces against her tits, tugging on them, squeezing and mashing and each picture after showed them getting ever closer before pulling away. Lola even smacked the left, wearing a shit-eating grin as it was blurred by the motion, while Bridget looked appalled by the act.

Samantha pocketed her cell, shook her head, and sighed as she looked out onto the highway once m-

She squeaked, and looked down at her leg. Mahna’s hand was on it, rubbing it. His nails just scratched through the thin fabric, clawing and groping at her thigh, pushing, teasing ever further in between.

“Have you... any experience?” He said, drawing her gaze to his face. He was flushed, panting a touch, and even his stone-cold focus had broken free from the road’s enticement, darting her way. “I mean, aside with your hands. I have heard you are rather... touchy.”

“Y... yes, but that was over ten years a-ago.” She shuddered, rubbing his arm. “And of course I’m rather hands-on. My magic comes from them. They are the most sensitive part of me... well, the th-third most.”

He hummed, and the sound seemed to travel, to reverberate down his arm and through his digits. They had reached their destination, cupping her lips, as if ready to part them and for their voice to be heard. To be felt. Even if it meant ruining the sheer fabric of her silk pants... and that was all the covering there was.

She shuddered, digging her nails harder into his arm. Her cheeks burned, seeming to sear her face as she felt those lips starting to heat, readying before he ever even truly introduced himself. It was only made worse as he swept down her left thigh once more, languidly trailing along.

“Are you a virgin,” he asked at last

“T-technically,” She managed to say, and realized she had been panting, as well. Her legs parted on their own, and her rear raised every other stroke down her thigh, allowing her pants to roll down after. His hand finally felt the bare, dark flesh of her leg. She hissed, gripped his arm hard... and eased it onto the gear shift instead. She took a deep breath, holding his hand there, and stilled her trembling as she let it out, looking at him at last. “I’ve done anal before, but many don’t count that as losing it, so... guess we’re both technical virgins.”

“It seems that way, though I’ve been told I’m really good with my hands... and my tongue... and keeping a beat.” He eased his hand back onto her leg, and once more her pants began their descent. “Of course, that was Bridget. You know how she is. She’s sweet no matter what.”

“Huh?” She said, only paying half attention to what he was saying (and that was being generous), the rest lost under soft whimpering and panting. A moan finally escaped as his hand slid between again- and she recoiled, feeling those cold fingers on her lips. They held firm, though, as if clasped against, his thumb teasing, circling her cl-

Samantha pulled him off, though whined.

“Wait,” she whispered. “I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” he said, both hands firm on the wheel again. “I overstepped. My bad.”

She rubbed his arm, feeling a touch guilty. “Mahna. It’s not that. I just...”

What? I just need to ruin my one chance to get laid? Need to stop myself from finally clearing my head, even if only a moment? Why did I stop him? Fucking hell, I’m such a stupid b...

She shook her head... and unclasped her seat belt.

“What are y-” Mahna began, but was lost to a gasp as she tugged on his belt. The wheel creaked, engine revved high a few times as he raised his rear. Allowing her to pull down his pants. Inch over inch, rev after rev, that dark denim slowly descended until, at last, his manhood sprung free. Rather, pointed forward; it was tucked above the belt line, under his shirt, where its dark red tip glistened, hidden inside its natural sheathe. Its scent rushed over her, intoxicating, and was afraid that it would cook her face if she didn’t squirrel it away in her cheeks fast enough. The head was far thicker than Ron’s ever was. It actually made her jaw crack with how much she had to open her mouth, but it felt so... so filling. So satisfying.

She lapped at it, slurped it, so greedily gulping every drop it could produce. Her hands wrapped around it, teasing it, starting feeling it from top to bottom. Slowly, she teased the skin down from the head, feeling its crown easily two inches down, while the rest of it was nothing but shaft. And what a shaft it was; there was easily enough room for both hands to stroke and lather it in his pre and spit, making her feel she was holding an instrument than a man’s man.

She popped off the head a moment, smacking it against her tongue before letting it twitch against her chin, looking up at him.

“What’s the matter, Mahna?” She said. “Aren’t you enjoying it?”

He simply nodded, and moaned, long, as she sucked on the head again, taking more in as her left hand abandoned it. She needed attention, too, and she made it known by wrenching his hand off the wheel and lead it down her back, pushing herself further on his lap, closer. Her skin pricked as his nails trailed down, stopping only a moment to grope her rear, before slipping down to her bubbling lips.

As soon as he touched, as soon as those digits graced her, she squealed and moaned onto his cock, squirting on the chair. She rocked a bit forward, panting hard, but would not back down. She would endure. She would not stop until this manhood was a quivering bit of flesh melting, fleeing from her maw, and so she picked up the pace. She gagged once, twice, but soldiered on, her squelching and his member’s becoming one.

Samantha popped off again, just in time for another, throaty moan, another dousing on his chair, and gave him a dirty look.

“P-pervert.” She sputtered out, cooing as she rocked back against his hand. “You planned this all along.”

“I planned for you to suck my cock?”

“You couldn’t help that. You’re just too sexy.”

He groaned, all focus on the road gone. He pulled off along the side and laid his seat back, giving her full reign over him while pulling down her top. Already beaten to the task. It slid off her shoulders awhile back, leaving him to pop her breasts free from her bra. He tugged, played with their nips, while his other hand still played with her below, now in front and given no mercy.

As she showed him none.

Both hands were on his balls, cradling them, tugging on them, while her face bombarded his waist, swallowing it all. He grabbed her hand at one point and pressed it to her throat, choking her a touch, feeling himself through it before allowing him to play with her chest again. All the while she was in bliss, and reached it again and again and again. She thought she was going to die if he wouldn’t release soon, but knew it was only a matter of when.

And it wasn’t long.

Mahna bucked, and Samantha managed to pull him free of her throat before he shot, feeling it land between her shoulders behind. He grabbed a hold and aimed it for her chest, but still ended up getting her face with the second, dripping down her nose and chin onto her beaded breasts. She eased his hand away, continuing to stroke it even as he hissed and tried to recoil away, but there was still some in there, some that needed to be on her belly, smeared there by its progenitor. The head tried to flee from her lips as she gave it one last lick, kissing the tip before finally letting him go. Samantha simply sat there, smirking, beaming at him, waiting for him to finally breathe, and admired the shade of red she had blossomed in that pale face. Even the tips of his ears were scarlet.

He finally exhaled, and drew in a deeper breath, giving her a half-lidded acknowledgment.

“Can I have my hand back now?” He said, and chuckled weakly along as she allowed him to pull free from between her legs. It was soaked; even after wiping it off for three minutes, it glistened in the passing streetlights as they were on the road once more, forced to pull off again as Samantha kissed him. Her tongue pervaded into his lips, allowing him to taste himself on her breath, but he didn’t seem to mind, tongue chasing after in kind. She finally broke the kiss; his head followed after, stopping as he finally realized it was over, and cleared his throat. “Well... good thing we have that all sorted out.”

“Yeah,” she said, licking her fingers clean as she straightened her top. It had no trouble sticking to her now, though her pants wished they could remain off. The cool night air felt so nice... but she did before they pulled into the cafe... though it took Mahna a moment out of the car to do the same. It was truly a contest who had the bigger, goofier smile as they walked in... and, casually, inconspicuously raced each other to the restroom. When they finally did sit down and order, it was at one of the back booths, together on one side. They both ordered three triple cheeseburgers, topped with all but onions, and two large baskets of chili cheese fries.

Samantha finished her second, downing a third glass of soda, and chanced glances at him, a game to catch each other- and was sadly caught.

She giggled, and he gripped her hand... stealing a fry.

“H-hey,” she cried out, taking one of his in turn. “Jerk.”

“Oh?” He mused, waving that fry before him. “I’m a jerk now?”

She leaned against him. “You were always a jerk, but you’re my jerk... right?”

He sighed, and took a bite of his second burger at last. “I guess.”

“So mean!” She nipped his ear, leaning in more. “Though that was hot.”

“I know. Spur of the moment. Never did something like that before.”

“Do you regret it?”

He swallowed, took a drink of his soda, and smirked at her.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Good, because maybe next time I’ll let you have a taste.”

“Maybe... maybe. Have to be good for your master, remember?”

She rolled her eyes and nudged him again, devouring her third burger at last. Only the paper that held it survived, and it was left spotless.

“Yeah yeah,” she said, and covered a burp with a drink as she checked her cell. “I have to get home soon. Tomorrow’s another test.”

“So soon? Wasn’t there one last month?”

“It’s the system I’m sticking to because it seems to work.”

“Out of how many times?”

“Once, so far, and I like it.”

He chortled, and stole another fry, simply smiling, beaming at her as he listened to her grumble. Alas, though, it was only delaying the inevitable. Not soon after, the engine rumbled to the Academy, and she lead him to the top of the stairs, giving him a kiss. She leaned against the door, watching his fine ass go... and frowned as it was the first to fade into the car. He blew her a kiss, she flipped him the bird, and both were laughing until he took off into the night, leaving her to become one with the stone, It creaked, taking her under before the metal took over, depositing her in her bed.

Right beside Marcy.

Samantha may have started, but the harpy simply continued to look up at the ceiling. Her eyes bloodshot, empty. Hopeless.

“Marce? Everything okay?” Samantha said, shaking the harpy’s shoulder.

Marcy’s head slowly turned her way, her eyes even slower to blink, but the harpy finally managed to give her a sad smile.

“Oh. Hey, teach,” she said. Her voice was rough, as if she hadn’t had a drink in a long time. She cleared her throat, and looked up at the ceiling again, heaving a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I’ll be gone soon.”

“It’s all right... are you?”

“Huh?”

“Are you all right?”

“I suppose... for a girl that was kicked to the curb.” She sniffed, grimacing as it became a sniffle, and fresh tears beaded her eyes. “That bastard...”

“What’s the matter?” Samantha sat up, looking over Marcy with a more studious eye. “Did Junmei-”

“No. He didn’t, and that’s why he broke up with me for that easy sleazy geeky whorepy!” Her wings ruffled as she sat up onto her knees, and hugged herself. “I mean, am I not good enough? I gave him love. I listened to him, understood him, made time with him and tried to accept who he was and now is... and then I find out he has been banging that bitch Buffy on the side? Does he not care about what I want, what my dreams are? All he had to do was be faithful; is that really so much to ask?” Her lip trembled, and it took what strength she had with it, collapsing her into Samantha’s arms. “Why are men such pigs? Why can’t they be happy with one person! Why can’t I ever find one fucking person worth a damn!”

Her voice raised to a wail by the end, and then was lost to bawling, muffled only by Samantha’s shirt. She cradled the harpy, rocked her, shushed into her ear until she could breathe. And then until it was steady. What glow Samantha had was lost during, what energy that it gave robbed by the harpy, and Samantha wished nothing more than the energetic ball of feathers to come back and for this... this monster to return to bed. As much as Samantha wanted to block out all that she muttered, the few phrases she caught sent chills down her spine. There was a reason this harpy was down in the Halls, after all, and even for a place called the Black Halls, those thoughts were too black, too vile and evil to even dare to repeat.

However, those dark, twisted statements and imagery were gone when Marcy pulled herself free from Samantha, all smiles again.

“Thank you, teach,” she said, and hopped off the bed, heaving a heavy yawn. “Man, that felt good to get off my chest.”

“A... any time,” Samantha said, and kept smiling until the door to her room was shut once more. She fell back into the bed, too drained from the day, and now, more than ever, simply wanted to sleep.

Only to be woken in an hour anyways.

She groaned, and shuffled to the shower. Thankfully, it was only test day, but that meant it was test day. She would be patrolling the undercroft again, and, for a moment, she hoped Lilith would find her. At least I would get to go to bed early.

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