"She's a witch!" I could see disbelief in her eyes and the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. "No, I really mean it, a real witch with spells, magic potions and everything."
I was describing my new love interest to Carla, my best friend. I know that it is unusual for a man to have a woman as his best friend but it had been that way for as long as I could remember. We were more than friends. In high school we had been lovers. When we were 15, she was my first and I had been hers. Although we dated others, we usually wound up back together.
Then came college, where we finally went our separate ways. After graduation she only worked for a short while before she married and had a son and a daughter. Then she was divorced and living with her mother again. I had gone into the service after graduation, came home, joined a major engineering firm, got married and was also divorced. (No children, which was a major reason for my divorce.)
Although we had renewed our friendship our sexual interaction is one of convenience. Once in a while, when one of us was unusually horny and there was no other recourse available, we would accommodate each other. For some reason, a single 38 year old man, with a good job and all of his hair has less problems acquiring partners for casual sex than a working mother living at home, so she was usually the one who called me.
I don't mean to suggest that I didn't enjoy it or look forward to it. If I had my way, it would have been even more than a regular thing, but I did understand that she had other priorities and did not want any long-term relationship then. I respected her wishes, and besides, I was not a monk and certainly was enjoying my "social" life. I even made a visit to my ex-wife now and then.
"No, I really mean it. She told me that she is a witch. I told her about you and she said she would like to meet you."
"Just how much did you tell her?"
"Even about -- ah --everything?"
"Yes, that too."
"Oh - oh, will she cast a spell on me?" I'm not sure if Carla said it in jest or was serious.
"Of course not, but she is a very unusual person. I think you will like her." With a chuckle I added, "She says that she is a good witch." I thought for a moment before I said, "Look, when I told her about you she asked if she could arrange a dinner for the three of us. How about it?"
Reluctantly, she agreed.
On Friday night, I picked Carla up and drove to Laura's place. It didn't look like a witches house, whatever they were supposed to look like. It looked like every other house in the neighborhood except that it stood in the middle of a larger tract of land and seemed just a little more isolated.
Inside it was bright and cheery with small, cozy rooms. Laura opened the door and the delicious yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread hung in the air like a beacon for my nose.
For some reason I had thought of the two women as opposites but when I saw them together I was troubled by their similarities. They were both about the same height and weight (both with outstanding figures). Laura was a little younger but only a year or two. Carla had dishwater blond hair while Laura's was the lightest brown but both had brown eyes. Probably the main difference in their appearance was Laura's dimples.
At first Carla was quiet and seemed a little intimidated, but as we enjoyed cocktails and chatted she began to open up. Laura took us for a tour of the house while we waited for something in the kitchen that smelled heavenly. It was very obvious that we skipped her bedroom and another room that she said was her "studio." (I had never been in either her bedroom or studio. All of our "activities" had been in either the living room or the den.)
Dinner, consisting of Caesar's salad, a standing rib roast with British style roasted potatoes and parsnips (my first time for parsnips) with peas and carrots was outstanding. During the meal the conversation turned to Laura's activities as a witch. The subject had been carefully avoided and tiptoed around earlier. She explained that she did not have any supernatural powers but was able to accomplish her "witchcraft" through the use of natural herbs, natural potions and some type of mild hypnosis. She also gave lessons in an oriental technique for self-satisfaction and taught Tantric disciplines. We had a delicious mousse for desert and moved into the den for an after dinner aperitif and coffee.
I had been in the den before but the decor was an eye opener for Carla. Everything in it was designed to be used while seated on one of the many pillows that littered the floor. The moment we walked in it had a sensual affect on me that I can't describe. I could see that it had done the same thing to Carla. Laura left to get the coffee and Carla leaned over to me and whispered, "Is this room doing to you what is to me?" With that she grabbed a feel of my hard penis through my trousers and laughed, "It sure is, I think my nipples are as hard as your pecker."
I was using my hand to check the validity of Carla's last statement when Laura came in carrying the coffee tray. Carla jumped and I was embarrassed but Laura just passed it off as if nothing had happened.
.... There is more of this story ...