Excerpt # 1
Eric didn’t know whether to be shocked, offended or just plain flattered. He slowly walked around the nude sculpture that so closely resembled him. He knew how his body looked; he had worked hard to get the muscle definition that he had. And here it was in specific, minute detail. And the look on the face was so obviously that of an aroused man, the hooded eyes - the piercing gaze. The statute was labeled ‘Angel’, by Evangeline Martel. How odd. No one else in Austin knew about his middle name, or how special it was to him. He was flabbergasted. The lightning bolt scar was in the exact place that it was on his body, a product of an eight year old boy and his four wheeler’s run-in with a barbwire fence. But what stood out the most, literally, was the fact that he - - uh, the statute was extremely well endowed. Eric smiled. Someone sure had his measurements down pat! Damn!
The crowd was coming alive. It was full of guys that knew him, fire guys, city guys, EMT’s - they all knew one another. And they were cutting him no slack. They held nothing back in the hoo-raw department. “Eric, you are our hero!” one of them exclaimed.
“Do you think they’ll ask you to pose for Playgirl?”
Knowing his alma mater was the University of Texas, another one exclaimed. “It’s about time the world knew how long a Longhorn really is!”
“Go look at the other sculpture, Eric,” a faceless voice in the crowd instructed him. So he did. The first piece had surprised him; after all, the sight of one’s own naked body in an unsuspecting place was enough to get anyone’s undivided attention. But what he saw next took his breath away. Obviously, the man was him also; there really was no mistaking that. This one showed him in the throes of coitus, legs in a widened stance, supporting a woman in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, obviously fully impaled on his shaft. The woman had her arms around him, hiding her face in his neck, a braid hanging to the middle of her back. Eric was stunned! This was her! The woman of his dreams. He would have recognized that body anywhere - and her hair - it was all so familiar. Eric’s heartbeat was going nuts! This was the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life! Suddenly, he wished his pants weren’t quite so tight. He refused to look down to see how big of a show he was putting on. He turned to walk through the crowd, intent on finding someone who could point out the artist who had put all of his goods on display. Did she know his dream-girl? Maybe, this was the answer to that midnight yearning that had been about to drive him mad.
He began to be conscious of the stares and whispers of the crowd that encircled him and the pair of bronzes. He turned to look around and WHAM! Jessica slapped the crap out of him! “Looks likes I wasn’t the only one cheating!” Jessica huffed off and Eric rubbed his jaw, glad to see her go. He was much more interested in exactly who the artist was that had carved his extra-large penis for the whole of Austin to see. This Evangeline Martel sure had some explaining to do! He needed to go check his bedroom for very small cameras.
The crowd parted again. But, this time there was someone at the other end of the man-made pathway. They might as well get out of the way, he was coming through. Then, he saw her.
She was just standing there, looking straight at him.
She appeared to be waiting on him.
Did he know her? She seemed familiar. Eric searched his memory, but came up empty. Hell, he wanted to know her! She looked so familiar . . . . .so . . . . .
She was not just beautiful, she was delectable. Wearing a knee length, sequined, midnight blue dress with a low scoop neckline and short sleeves, she was completely and utterly feminine. And that dark hair - so like the woman of his fantasies!
He noticed she was standing close to the Congressman’s wife - Arabella Landale - and it was obvious they were related. They were very similar in their coloring and in their expression. But the object of his desire, she was different; wonderful, in ways that he could not put his finger on. She was no more than five-six, but perfectly, exquisitely curved.
Their eyes met. And for a moment, he saw hunger and yearning in her gaze. Every cell in his body screamed out for her. There was total recognition in every fiber of his being. He watched her shut her eyes, as if gathering strength. Then, she turned her back on him. Her hair hung in a seductive braid to the middle of her back, the long dark tresses intertwined with dark blue ribbon that was dusted with rhinestones.
That braid! He had just seen that braid! His nighttime princess had that braid!!
The sight caused his gut to wrench, the woman in the second statue - the one that was carved in his arms - making love to him -the woman driving him crazy night after night - - was her! Eric was mesmerized. Then it dawned on him. This was the artist! This must be Evangeline Martel! Somehow, he and this woman had a connection that he couldn’t begin to understand.
Nothing in the world could have prevented him from going to her. He stopped about three feet from her. Oblivious to the crowd he approached her. “There you are.” God, he wanted to lick his lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart. Turn around and look at me.”
She stood still one moment longer, her back to him. He hungrily took in her form, from the top of her head, the luscious curve of her bottom, to the small bare feet encased in what looked to him like glass slippers. Then she turned to face him. At first, it seemed as if she was trying to be composed and business like - but then something broke in her expression and she stepped right up to him. Reaching out, she put her small hand on his cheek, caressing it so very lightly. Then she leaned up and whispered in his ear. “Are you real? Or did I conjure you?”
Conjure, that was a word his mother used. He didn’t take the time to analyze the implications. “Oh, I’m real baby. Would you like to pinch me and find out?”
A rosy blush rose from her neck and enveloped her cheeks. “Yes.” The one word answer hung between them. Desire was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.
Evangeline swallowed, took a deep breath and asked, “Well, how do you feel about magick?”
Eric laughed. “Oh, now magic is a different story. I definitely believe in magic.” He picked her up and carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the vanity. They were both still gloriously naked.
“Baby, I know you’re happy and the magic you’re referring to is real—it’s the magic between a man and a woman. And as much as I believe in that kind of magic, it isn’t what I’m talking about.” Her face grew serious. “Eric love, I need you to really listen to me. I need to tell you the truth.” He stopped, dead still. Please don’t let this be over, he prayed. He couldn’t take it, he just couldn’t take it.
That thought she heard. “It’s not over, Eric. It will never be over, not if I have any say about it.”
“You can hear my thoughts?” Eric was amazed.
She continued with her explanation. “Sometimes, I can read your thoughts…if I’m concentrating. I’m the least psychic one in my family, but we’re all unusual. We have powers.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head. This was going to be hard. “I have power.”
“You most certainly do.” He went to the shower and turned it on. “You have the power to turn me inside out. You have the power to bring me to my knees with desire for you.” He walked back to her and tenderly began taking her braid down. “I want to see your hair, loose, long, see your nipples peeking through the strands.” She watched him, unbelievably, he was getting hard again. She reached out and caressed his penis. He closed his eyes in pleasure. “See, how much power you have.”
“Eric. I’m serious.”
“Oh, babe, so am I. You have ultimate power over me. Just one look from you and I am as hard as an iron spike.” He stepped in front of her, jutting straight out—engorged, powerful, blatantly aroused.
So, she would just have to show him. He stood three feet in front of her. “Don’t move, Eric, stay there.”
There was not where Eric wanted to be. He wanted to be inside of her, deep, inside of her. But he obeyed. She held out one hand, as if she were going to touch him, but there was no way that she could reach him from where she sat. She closed her eyes and moved her hand as if she closed it around his rod. She caressed him with her fingers, she massaged his length up and down. But she was three-feet-away.
Eric felt every move of her fingers. He tingled all over. This was impossible! She was touching him! He could feel her caress! She kept it up, literally. Eric was astounded. He was being given the most incredible hand job of his life, and there was no hand involved. His breathing accelerated.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” He was stunned! Evangeline opened her mouth and began to swirl her tongue in the air—licking her own lips in a circular motion—bringing them together in a tender kiss. And he felt all of it!
She was not unaffected. He watched her hands pluck at her own nipples, watched her flex her hips, trying to ease the tension between her legs. Still, she kept up the onslaught. Every slight move of her tongue and her lips was magnified a hundred times on his manhood. He withstood the incredible torture for as long as he could, and then he climaxed. Wildly, he erupted! His whole body convulsed and he shot his cum clear across the room, splattering the mirror of the vanity in a white-hot eruption.
Eric sank to his knees. “What did you do to me?” He was incredulous. She must know some type of hypnosis. That was the only thing he could think of that made sense. There had to be a logical explanation. Evangeline stepped down from the vanity, took a wash cloth, held it under the warm spray of the shower and knelt in front of him. She tenderly washed him. “I loved you in my mind.”
“Your mind is very talented.”
“You’re not angry?”
“Angry, no. Confused, yes.” He looked at her. She was the same. The hair that he had loosened, hung thick over one shoulder—a dark, pink nipple peeked through the silky black strands. “What else can you do?”
“I can love you.” She kissed his chest. “Come, bathe with me.” He could do nothing, but follow.
Before getting into the shower, he took another cloth and washed the evidence of his passion from the mirror. “I have never come that violently before. I didn’t know I could.” Then, he thought of the first night that he had dreamed about her—the volcanic eruption of his climax that night had almost equaled this one. The effect that she had on him was unbelievable. He swore the moment they climbed out of that shower, he would get to the bottom of this. But right now, his mind wasn’t in charge. His heart was.
She led him by the hand under the warm spray. Evangeline soaped his body, enjoying the feel of him. “Love, I can’t get it up so soon. You’ve drained me; three times in one morning is a record for me.”
“I know. I just love to touch you. Your body is magnificent. Even though, I’ve touched it many times in my mind, fantasy is a far cry from reality.” He filled his own hand with the liquid soap and began returning the favor. Turning her so that her back was to him, Eric used his soapy hands to luxuriously wash Evangeline’s neck, arms, breasts, stomach—everywhere. She leaned back against him, raising her arms above her head to caress his face. When his hands finally found the juncture between her thighs—it only took one touch—and she convulsed with a climax that had been building since she had watched him come by just the touch of her spirit.
But he didn’t leave it at one touch, he kept working her and she kept coming. “Eric, you are so—” She was about to say ‘wonderful’, but he finished the thought.
“Hard,” he said through clenched teeth. “I am so friggin’ hard, it’s crazy!”
He picked her up and sat her down on his cock. Moving her to the side of the shower, she rested her face on his shoulder as he pumped wildly into her grateful, aching pussy.
This time it was hot, hard, fast and totally satisfying. Even after he spilled his seed deep within her womb, he kept pushing, pushing, letting the final sweet contractions of her channel milk the last drop of molten lava from his spent shaft. “I’m convinced.” He panted. “I believe you.” He voice was breathless from the exertion.
Evangeline, still supported by his strong hands, held her breath and asked, “What do you believe, Eric?”
“You’re a witch,” he whispered. “I don’t really understand it, but I believe.”