the
streets in a sexy gown was rare and intoxicating. Usually when I
ventured outside Phoenix House I was dressed primly and accompanied
by several other sisters. But tonight was different. Tonight I
would seek the touch of an eager partner. He would lick my nipples
and explore my secret openings. I would happily return the favor.
My step quickened with the urgency of my moistening
center.
Most of the other sisters would be
headed downtown to the clubs and bars which would be pulsing with
the night’s unique excitement. Halloween in the mortal world meant
the chance to become something else. For us it was the same. I was
not a proper witch this night. I was a lusty woman aching to be
satisfied.
The streets were dark and forlorn,
flanked by abandoned buildings. This had been a great center of
manufacturing during a different era of prosperity. Few people
walked these parts, even on Halloween night. The sudden crash of
breaking glass startled me. My hand flew to the pendant I usually
wore around my neck but it had been left behind at Phoenix House.
Another rule of Halloween night: No Witchcraft.
I looked down black alleys, unsure
whether anyone was looking back at me. I was not even convinced I
was heading the right way. Each step I took was all due to a
conversation overhead in a café a few weeks earlier. I estimated
they were college girls, young and brightly turned out. They were
speaking low but a silent chant allowed me to hear words while
Katie sat across from me engrossed in her Kindle. One of the girls
was talking excitedly about a wild underground club she had visited
over the weekend. She shifted her eyes around to ensure no one was
paying attention, then breathed, “He fingered me right there on the
dance floor. It was unfucking believable. Chicks had their tits
hanging out. One girl was even giving a full blow job. We found the
men’s room and he fucked me right there against the door.” Her
friend gasped and whispered a question but she shook her head. “No,
I never even knew his name. Place was called Skylight, way up Van
Buren. I gotta go back there.”
I thought about her words that night
and touched myself as the inhabitants of Phoenix House breathed
quietly around me. The thought of such a place had me
salivating.
I was so lost in my own thoughts I did
not hear the car until it was beside me. The lights were off but I
could make out the dim figure of a man. He leaned out of the car.
“Get in.”
I had sworn I would not take the first
stranger but the shallow moonlight had allowed me enough of a
glimpse of the man that I figured I could chance a few moments to
see if he was what I was looking for after all. His hair was dark
and his brow deep. He was perhaps a few years older than I. He wore
a button up shirt which was rolled back to the elbows, as if he had
just come from a long day at the office. He leaned back into his
seat, waiting. I wondered what sort of man would issue commands to
strange women who walked alone on a dark city street.
He didn’t look at me. “Aren’t you
coming?” The low timber of his voice vibrated in my depths. All the
long months of fleshly denial had caught up to me. All it took was
a man ordering me into his car and I wanted him. I opened the door
and sunk into the soft seat, smelling leather and smoke.
He lit a cigarette, and held the pack
out to me. “Want one?”
I did not smoke, but I took one. He
lit both cigarettes and inhaled deeply. I tried to do the same and
coughed furiously. He smiled thinly. “You don’t smoke.”
I tried to breath. “No.” Yet, the
sensual feel of the cigarette in my hand and the heady aura of the
smoke gave me courage to inhale again, more shallowly.
He started the car. “My name is Draco.
We’ll go to my place.”
I stared at him. He was even more
finely built than I thought. I wanted to touch the muscled contours
his shirt could not hide. I wanted his large hands as my body. And
even as I realized he seemed to take me for