WitchsSmokeAaron Page 2

  She put the cup down, put the knife away, and turned to leave. As she reached the door, she turned and looked at them. “May you learn.” Then she was gone.

  Aaron thought, as he floated in a wisp of smoke, across the world, that he had learned so much. But he had not learned how to make smoke help someone else. Still, he remembered that first night and that first morning.

  They had gone and joined their father after the old crone left, telling him what had happened. They all had a good time, eating and drinking and even wrestling in the middle of the floor before servants helped them to bed. This was a normal evening for them, too much food, too much drink and often a female for their bed from among the willing maids. This one night, he did not take a woman to bed.

  He did not wake up in his bed, and he had not slept in a bed for centuries since. In all that time, learning what he could do and what he could not do, he had been unable to contact his brothers. He had gone back to his home to find it in rubble. Obviously, he had not found something entirely selfless and good that he could do for someone else. Oh, a few times he had done some good. He had also resisted doing some bad. Well, he had not resisted all the bad. But he was not sure exactly what the act of doing something entirely selfless and good might be.

  Chapter Two

  Asa wandered through the rooms of the old beach home. She had looked at it carefully before she bought it and knew it needed a lot of restoration. Her inspector had told her that the foundation and the walls and studs were in good shape, so she was looking forward to working on the house. Of course, he had also advised her against purchasing the cottage for a number of reasons. There would be a high cost for insurance since this was in a flood plain zone. He warned her that the fact that the location was close to seawater, the cottage would have to be refinished almost every year.

  She was also warned about the seclusion. The house was on a point by itself since the big hurricane of a couple of years ago had pretty much either destroyed or scared off the few Texans who lived in this remote beach area. New regulations had prevented rebuilding. It made the cost of the property cheap and had left her a reasonable amount of her liquid cash to fix up the house to suit herself. This was what she needed. Someplace where she could relax and a project to keep her mind and hands busy.

  The first thing she did was research the area to make sure she really did understand where she was going to live. Besides being out on an isolated point with only one road, she was pleased to discover that within a short drive, there was a small town that drew tourists. She would be able to buy food and necessities at a close location at reasonable prices. Then within a standard drive inland was a larger town built around a college. College towns offered everything anyone needed from used good stores to high priced clothing stores. College kids and their parents bought everything in all price ranges.

  She was far enough from the big cities that she could still get to them, but she could forget her previous life. All of it, from the time since she had started to become a woman as a pre-teen.

  So she looked forward to her new home, stopping first to pick up some last minute items. She laughed at the storeowner who helped load her boxes into her Jeep. When he found out where she was going, it left the opening he needed to come on to her. Like most men she met, he was soon hitting on her, and she shut him down fast. His comment was he could not understand how such a beautiful, desirable woman would want to live out here by herself. She told him about her self-defense training as well as her two guns that she kept with her. This led her to mention her training by the Austin policeman she dated on how to use them. He finally got the hint, but he did suggest the body needed other things. Little did he know, there was a time when she would have taken him up on his unsubtle offer. For most of her life, she had loved sex, enjoyed it more than most of the girls she grew up with or knew. It was that enjoyment that had put a wedge between her and any girlfriends or, face it, any male friends.

  Asa really could have told him that for now she had all she wanted and needed for the body. She had been introduced at the age of fourteen, quite pleasantly, by a neighbor, to what the body could enjoy and, from then on, she felt she would never grow tired of sex. She was wrong. She had sex for years. She had it any way you could imagine. She had started out in the normal manner after the neighbor. There was a boyfriend, then a friend, and then the two of them and another girl.

  Then she moved to the big city and needed money and a guy offered money if she would work in his house. Fortunately, he was a fairly good guy as pimps went, and he ran a house that was clean. He had nice girls, and they went out to local hotels. Unfortunately, there was a raid, but she got off by fucking a bunch of cops, so her record was clear.

  Somewhere in there, she had an epiphany. If she were a painting, people would look at it hanging on a wall and everyone would say, “My God, what a beautiful woman.” She was not thinking this because of ego alone. She knew what great movie stars looked like, she knew who was picked the most beautiful women each year, and looking in the mirror and seeing her smiles in photos let her accept that she was beautiful. But there was something about her that drew people to her for something else. Sex.

  At first, when she was young, she thought it was because she passed on a vibe that said she was easy. She began to play games, trading partners, black rooms, masks, using different perfumes and smells. She borrowed worn clothes that had the smell of others still on them. She changed the color of her hair and used makeup to change her skin color. She tanned and then bleached. She changed her eye colors so many times she lost track of how many pairs of contact lenses she had. She did not need glasses, so she had to go to special effects shops to get the contacts.

  Once she had money, she paid women and eventually also some men to join in a game. A man could enter the room and look over the line up and be told that he could have sex with only one, but it would be free. Every time, she was picked. She tried it in police stations behind the line up glass. She tried it by making the girls the best looking possible and her looks disguised. They all tried different tactics to the game. The guy could win a big prize if he would take the right girl out on a date. Then the guy asked the question. “Can I have sex with her?” If they said no, he picked her. If they said yes, he picked her. When asked why he picked her when the answer to sex had been no, he would reply that he hoped he could talk her into sex later.

  She soon discovered that it was women also. Men and women of all ages wanted to fuck her. At first, that was good. But eventually she came to realize no one saw her as a person. They did not really see her beauty or her personality or the woman inside.

  She had danced in men’s clubs, and, because she was so popular, the boss had to have a bodyguard when she was on stage. Eventually, she had met a woman who ran a BDSM club, and she went to it several times. The woman hired her to wear leather and flog men. In the BDSM world, there was the interest of Doms in both male and female roles. But to have a Dominatrix that was unusually beautiful, and petite with eyes and lips that drew all the men and women that walked into the club, well, that added up to a very popular and always in demand lady.

  So she flogged men until they climaxed. She took the thin whips to women who could afford her, and she brought them to ecstatic climaxes. In the meantime, for huge prices that got bigger and bigger, she had been fucked in every way women could with as many men as could get around her. Sometimes there were women involved, and she often returned the favors for both the men and the women. She had always felt that there was the upside and the downside. She liked sex better than most, and she regretted that no one wanted more from her than sex.

  Then one night, she did not have an orgasm, so she had to fake it. This happened again a week later, but this was all night long. This was a shock because she had always enjoyed sex and the feeling of joy and release to her body and mind. This time, she took a few days off and then went back, and she climaxed, but it was not the big bang. Then it went on for several days, and she
was sad. Something that she enjoyed, something that gave her great pleasure, had finally been taken away from her.

  After all, if no one wanted anything from her but to fuck her body, and she could not receive anything in return, not even pleasure from an orgasm, then what was there for her?

  She spent 48 hours without sleep, just thinking it over and not going into the club. The club was almost like a home to her. The owner, Carol Den, had become her friend. Something had happened along the way with her relationship with Carol. Most people assumed the club was owned by a man or several men because, well, the world was still biased. So Carol signed everything as C. Den and her well paid Attorney represented her in most things.

  She and Carol had never had sex. It took her a while to understand that this was why they could become friends. In fact, she was around Carol for several weeks before it dawned on her that Carol was not approaching her for sex. She finally had to ask Carol.

  “Everyone in this place, including your bouncers, wants to fuck me. You hired me to fuck as much and as many as possible. Yet, you have not approached me, and I have not seen you with anyone else. Carol, I have to ask, what gives?” Asa sat across from Carol’s desk in her private office, which did not look like the office of a sex club.

  Carol sat back and did not laugh or even smile. Finally, when Asa thought she was not going to answer, Carol began to talk.

  “It is funny that I own a sex club. I would say that I am the opposite of you.” Carol’s voice was low, and she was staring over Asa’s head at one of the old paintings she had hanging high on a wall.

  “You are pure sex, you want it, and do it, and everyone wants you. I am titled as an Asexual. If you look it up in Wikipedia, it will say sometimes referred to as nonsexuality. When I did not have my first period, the doctors all agreed that I was female, but there were some male hormones present. Still, I did not have an interest in girls, so it was decided I was not a lesbian. I could have told them that. I was not interested in anything that had to do with reproduction, sex, exploring my body or anyone else’s.”

  Carol finally looked down at Asa, maybe to see how the woman was taking all of this. “It did not worry me. This is just how I am. It did worry my parents, so, using college as an excuse, I left without a word and a trace and never had contact with them again. It saved them a lot of grief. They were normal Baptists and did not take well to me not marrying and having children. I cannot have children.

  “I am fascinated in the human nature of sex. I read about it, study it, and watch it. But it does not excite me, arouse me, or provoke me to any action. I have found that I am attached in an affectionate way to some people, but I have never loved anyone deeply. So here we sit, two women, one who is the top of sex, and one who is not sex. What a pair.”

  So this strange pair had become friends. It probably was destiny. A woman who was not interested in sex and a woman who sex ruled her life, both needed someone in their life. Who else were they going to have as friends? So now, Asa had to take her problem to her only friend.

  Carol’s office looked like the back room of a library instead of the workings of a BDSM club. Ugly books everywhere, most of the bookkeeping type, in piles, falling off shelves and stacked on the dark carpeted floor. The furniture was good, the chairs comfortable, but not expensive antiques, just nice worn leather office furniture. It also smelled comfortable, the wood and the paper and the old furniture made one want to take off his or her shoes and relax. Which is what she did when she came in to meet with Carol.

  * * * *

  Carol slid back and looked over her big messy desk at the woman who had been her best moneymaker and turned into her best friend. She really loved this woman in the way that she loved.

  “Carol, I am all burnt out.”

  “Asa, you are the favorite of the club. I get too many requests for you. I charge the most for you, and you have made both our bank accounts fat. But I agree, you have been working twelve hours a night and taking on more men and women nightly than most people take on for a week. What are you thinking about? Changing your schedule? Maybe working less hours, or skipping a couple days a week. We could work something out. We could even agree on a short vacation.” Carol leaned back in the chair behind her desk and looked at Asa.

  The woman Carol was concerned about was more than beautiful. She had long brown hair with just enough natural curl to make it flow over her shoulders to frame her face perfectly. It had hints of red in it in the sun, and Carol knew it was the natural color because it was the color of her thatch when she was not clean shaven. She had hazel eyes that were sometimes green and sometimes reddish brown framed by long thick lashes. She was one of those people blessed with flawless skin and, because of her long hours, she did not get much of a tan, but still it had a rosy blush. But there was something else about Asa, as she was the epitome of sex. When a man saw her, he wanted her. Women who had never thought of same sex got hot just looking at her. It was as if the gods got together and created sex acts first and then wrapped it in the shell of a woman.

  “Not a vacation. I do not want sex anymore. I can’t reach a climax. I have tried different partners, I have tried different toys, I have even tried some drugs. You know I never use drugs. This week I have even gotten sick at the smell of sex. I think I got overloaded and my senses got turned off.”

  “Do you need to see a doctor? I have the name of some good ones. Even some clinical psychiatrists.” Carol looked at her friend, worry on her face.

  “Well, I think if I don’t get away from sex, I will have a breakdown.” Asa pushed her hair back carelessly. It was obvious she was serious.

  “So what do you plan, and I will support you in any way I can.”

  “I need to get away from Austin. I think I will go to the coast and try to buy a place where no one knows me. Someplace isolated to just give myself some alone time and see if my body will heal itself.”

  Carol was shocked, but she did not want to show it. She would support Asa in whatever way she could. There was a part of Asa that no one bothered to find beneath the beauty and the sex.

  * * * *

  So Carol had a real estate friend, actually a client, help find the house. They had looked at several over the last few months, but even though the agent was not happy with Asa’s choice, Asa knew it was exactly what she needed. She ordered furniture by searching the Internet at the built-in kitchen counter. She slept on an air mattress until delivery trucks found their way on the rough road to unload and move the items where she wanted them.

  She worked each day, painting walls and hanging drapes, until she fell across the bed to sleep in exhaustion. She ate when she was hungry and took walks when she felt like it and forgot about clocks. She had been in the house six months, and the weather was turning cooler, so she built a fire in the outdoor fire pit that was part of the wooden porch. This was what she wanted, quiet and rest. She took a quick shower and pulled on a heavy robe with nothing else and went down to enjoy the warmth of the fire and being alone. She could hear the waves on the distant beach, and she was relaxed for the first time in years.

  She leaned back against the pillows and allowed herself to enjoy the quiet of the night as the fire died down, and she was fascinated to see the smoke dance in a thin veil around the pit. She closed her eyes and drifted off, almost asleep, when she felt the touch of a hand on her foot. She did not move, because it was a soft, messaging touch, the thumb under her arch rotating slowly to relax that ache. She thought, gee, what a real dream, as the hand moved up to her ankle and lifted her leg up and off to uncross her legs. In her dream, she allowed the hand to keep hold of her ankle, as it felt warm and comforting, and then it moved up to her calf.

  She rolled her head slowly to one side, and the hand messaged the muscles in the back of the leg, and it felt so good she moaned low. She scooted down to get more comfortable. The hand moved up to her thigh, but it was only softly drifting up and down the inside, raising small goose bumps of enjoyment. Unconsciou
sly, she let her leg fall away, opening herself up.

  The hand softly moved back and forth, but each stroke up brought the strong fingers closer to her cunt. She realized that, besides the wood smoke, she could also smell her own sex. For the first time in months, she was actually aroused. This was a great dream even if she was only barely asleep. Finally, the fingers’ soft movements made the contact she wanted. Soft caresses against the slit, then a finger was slowly moving back and forth between the lips, moving easily due to the moisture that seeped from her core.

  She thought she heard a soft chuckle, but the finger felt so good she just relaxed and let it do its job, dragging her moisture all the way back to her tight ass hole and then up around the nub that was pounding, fat with blood. She felt the hand insert itself between the wet lips, and the finger slowly went into her core. She sucked in air, and her hips moved up. Then, as the finger moved up and down, the thumb went back to the demanding nub, the heat rolled upward through her stomach, and her breasts tightened until the ends were hard as pebbles.

  Finally, as she was finger fucked, she felt the build of climax as muscles all through her body began to clinch. The hand pulled out and a finger and thumb pulled and pinched her nub. She yelled as she bucked and lost it as blackness rolled over her. She lay back, grasping the wooden chair handles, pulling air into her desperate lungs. It was at this moment she realized she was not asleep, this was really happening. She raised up, expecting to be facing a man either on his knees or leaning over her.

  But no one was there. There was only a wisp of smoke floating over her leg and then dissolving in the breeze, leaving behind the smell of sandalwood and cinnamon.