The Septimus Child

by Cloudy

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Oral Sex, .

Desc: Sex Story: Sexual healing and superstitions

Today is born the seventh one
Born of woman the seventh son
And he in turn of a seventh son
He has the power to heal
He has the gift of the second sight
He is the chosen one
So it shall be written
"Seventh Son of a Seventh Son", Iron Maiden

Darra slung her purse over her shoulder and stalked out of her lawyers office. "What a bunch of bullshit!" she thought. Her soon-to-be ex-husband was trying to bully her again, through the courts this time, but almost as awful just the same. This time, the hold-up on her divorce was his petty squabbling over the furniture, of all things. She'd finally told her lawyer to let him have it, all of it, if it would bring this miserable sham of a marriage to an end.

She'd tried for two years to get away from Paul, but he'd always tracked her down. Darra wasn't going back to him this time, never. Five and a half years of hell were enough for anyone. Crossing the busy intersection to get to her car, she thought of all the times she'd given in to Paul and his demands. All the name-calling, the put-downs. "Not this time," she promised herself. It had taken her months to get up the courage to actually leave, and then more time with a therapist to even begin to undo the damage Paul had done to her self-esteem. It was a daily struggle, still, to not see herself as ugly, or fat, but she fought on.

In reality, Darra was anything but ugly or fat. Paul told her she was, but he used words as weapons in his fight to keep her. Her maternal grandmother had been full-blooded Cherokee, and Darra owed her high cheekbones and dark hair to her. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman with olive skin and strange hazel eyes flecked with gold. The stares and wolf whistles she earned on the street should have told her how attractive she was, but she'd lost whatever confidence she'd once had.

Driving home, she turned on the radio and fiddled with the controls, trying to find something to listen to other than the depressing news reports, and finally settling on a classic rock station. She turned it up loud, trying to drown out the thoughts of Paul and his stalling tactics. Foghat serenaded her with "Slow Ride" until she swung her car into the driveway of her mother's house, where she'd been living since she'd walked out on her marriage.

Grabbing the latest set of court papers and her purse, Darra dragged herself out of her car, up the walk, and through the front door. The emotional roller-coaster of dealing with her divorce had left her drained and tired, and all she wanted at the moment was a cup of coffee and a place to sit down. When she reached the kitchen, she saw her mother standing at the stove, already working on dinner.

"Hey, Mom," Darra called out while she dropped her purse and the papers on the china cabinet.

Her mother turned from the stove, "Hi, honey. Don't put your things there, they'll just get lost."

"Its just some papers from the lawyer... I'll put them up later. Is there coffee made?"

"Sure is... just made it a few minutes ago."

Darra made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "How'd the appointment at the lawyer's go?" her mother asked.

"Paul's being a jerk, but that's no suprise. Now he wants all the furniture, too. I finally just said to let him have it. I'm tired of the whole thing and just want it to be over."

"I know you do, sweetheart," her mother said. "Maybe this will be his last gasp."

"I hope so. Can we talk about something else? I really don't feel like rehashing it all right now."

Darra's mother turned back to the stove, "Sure. Oh! I forgot to tell you, we have a new neighbor. I saw him moving his stuff in next door this afternoon."

"In the Taylor's house? It'll be nice to have someone living there again... it's been empty awhile now." Darra wasn't really that interested in their new neighbor, but any topic besides her divorce would work.

"He's very nice looking - and I didn't see a woman with him, or children, for that matter," her mother softly added.

"Mom, right now I wouldn't care if he was Brad Pitt's identical twin. The last thing I want to think about is another man!"

"I know, honey, but the time will come when you will." Her mother turned and looked at Darra.

"Hopefully not for awhile. I'm going to go upstairs and take a shower, and then maybe a nap." Darra took her coffee cup to the sink and rinsed it out before placing it on the counter. She headed up the stairs and towards the promise of a hot shower and some peace.

Ashon finished putting the linens on his bed in his new home. "At least I'll have that much done," he thought as he surveyed the organized chaos around him that had resulted from moving, yet again. He'd gotten a few boxes unpacked, but the house was still in a mess, and he had several days of sorting things out to look forward to.

He strolled to the window with the intention of opening it for the breeze, but was brought up short by what he saw across the short distance between his house and the next. Framed in the window of the house next door was a woman. A beautiful woman with long, dark hair and golden skin. She had obviously forgotten to pull the shades and was undressing without realizing she was being watched.

Ashon almost forgot to breathe as he watched her unbutton her blouse, button by button. He longed to put his fingers where hers were now, longed to feel her skin. She tossed her blouse to the side, and reached around behind her to unzip her skirt. He felt a brief sense of shame for standing there, watching, but it passed quickly as he saw her push the skirt down, and step out of it. She again reached behind her, unfastened her bra and let it drop into her hands, before tossing it out of sight. Ashon got a small, sweet glimpse of the swell of her breast behind her arm, and then she bent to slip off her panties.

When she turned to the mirror, her back to him, he felt his cock rising, hard and hot. The curve of her hips, flowing down to legs that seemed impossibly long, took his breathe away, and he held on to the window frame, as his legs unexpectedly went weak. She turned again, and her profile was striking. He watched as she cupped her breasts and tilted her head. Her hands snaked slowly, almost timidly, down her concave belly and down to dwell between her thighs. Hesitantly, she began to stroke herself, her lovely arched back covered by her lush hair. Her body tensed, the muscles in her legs and hips going hard as she slipped into her climax. Her beautiful face the picture of perfect passion. Spent, she dropped her head forward, seemingly to catch her breath. Her hair fell forwards to cover her features. After several moments, Ashon saw her pull a robe off the back of the door to her right, and then disappear through it. His heart slowed, and he made his way to his bed and sat down.

After catching his breath, Ashon went about straightening the mess, and putting his things away, but his mind kept returning to the dark-haired beauty next door. Her image went with him as he went downstairs and began to put dishes and glasses up in the kitchen. It followed him relentlessly when he headed to the living room to hang a few pictures and hook the cable to his television, and again, it joined him hours later as he took a shower.

When he felt the water cascade down his back, the image of her legs, and her breast took hold of him, and his cock began to pulse in time with his heartbeat. He grasped himself tightly with his hand, and began to stroke, slowly at first, until the memory of her golden skin, and lucious ass overtook him, and he came, shooting against the wall of the shower, steadying himself with one hand against the same wall.

Ashon dried off, and headed for bed, still unable to shake the image of the woman next door. Why did she stay with him? What was it about her? He'd had his share of women, but this one... there was something, but he just couldn't put a finger on it. Her memory was merciless. He drifted off to sleep, still affected by the sight of the beauty in the window.

Darra surprised herself by sleeping the night through after her shower. She'd been more tired than she'd thought, mentally and emotionally tired after her appointment with her lawyer. After having breakfast with her mother, she had picked up the paperback she'd been reading and went out to the front porch on the swing with a glass of iced-tea for some welcome hours of peaceful escape into her novel.

An hour or so later, her attention was distracted by the mailman coming by and beeping his horn as he passed. He'd been a childhood favorite of Darra's, and never failed to beep or wave when he saw her. She set her book down on the swing next to her and walked out to the street, and the mailbox. She never even noticed the man behind her until he spoke.

"Hi, I'm your new neighbor, Ashon" he said, as he held out his hand to Darra.

Darra turned, startled, but reflexively put out her hand to shake his. "Nice to meet you. I'm Darra."

When Ashon's hand touched hers, he felt something akin to shock run up his arm. He knew something about her almost instinctively. She'd had a rough time recently, and was very unsure of herself. He shook his head, trying to focus on the woman standing in front of him, regarding him as if he was a puzzle she'd yet to solve.

"It's good to meet you, too. I saw your mother, was it? yesterday, and waved, but haven't gotten the chance to actually meet her."

"Yes, she mentioned she'd seen you moving in," Darra answered, while pulling the mail out of the mailbox. Her mother had been right, their new neighbor was certainly attractive. Very tall, slimly built, but powerful looking, nonetheless. His hair was a rich gold, with lighter streaks, and he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She turned to head back up the walk towards her porch. His voice stopped her again.

"Maybe we can have lunch one day, or maybe dinner? Either one's fine. I'm not from here, so I'd love to hear about the town."

Dara turned, and Ashon couldn't help noticing her eyes... a strange green-gold color. "Um... I guess. Sure." Ashon could hear the uncertainty in her voice, and it struck a chord in his heart. He could see pain behind those striking eyes.Someone had hurt her, badly. "What about tonight? I could cook us something here... my house."

"I don't know... ," Darra hesitated. He was attractive to her, but Paul had been, too, and she couldn't forget how that had turned out.

"No pressure," Ashon promised. "Just a nice casual meal... please."

Darra couldn't resist the pleading in his eyes. "Okay, sure. What time?"

"Around seven okay?" Ashon still held her eyes with his.

"Fine, can I bring anything?"

"No, not a thing. You can point me in the direction of the nearest grocery store, though."

Darra gave him directions, and then went back to her novel and her seat on the swing. When she noticed she'd read the same paragraph three times, she finally put it down, and let her mind wind itself around the man that had moved into the house next door. She didn't really understand why she had given in so easily to his invitation to dinner, but she found herself actually looking forward to it, which surprised her.

When she told her mother later about the invitation, she didn't seem surprised, but wisely, made little fuss about it. Darra had had that deer in the headlights look just speaking about it, and her mother didn't want to make her any more self-concious than she already was.

At about 6:00 Darra took a shower and got ready to walk next door. She looked one last time in the mirror and tried gamely to like what she saw. She had chosed a simple denim skirt, white blouse, and sandals. She admitted the skirt showed her legs to an advantage, but couldn't find anything else complimentary about the way she looked.

Promptly at 7:00 she knocked on Ashon's front door, trembling lightly inside at her boldness, but enjoying the slight excitement of dinner with a man she found very attractive. Ashon answered the door quickly, as if he'd been right there waiting for her, and she noticed his hair was still damp, and curling slightly around his ears and at the nape of his neck. For some reason, the sight of those almost-curls set her at ease. It made him human in her eyes.

"Hi. C'mon in," Ashon invited her, and stepped back out of the way, closing the door softly behind her. The house still looked bare, but Darra noticed that he'd taken the time to hang a few pictures, and put a few personal items here and there. He placed his hand in the small of her back, and again he felt that shock go up his arm, and it was all he could do to leave his hand there.

As they reached the kitchen, Darra realized he'd gone to quite a bit of trouble for their "date." The table was set nicely with linen placemats and napkins, and there was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. She was pleasantly surprised, and wished she'd dressed up a little more.

"Do you like italian food?" Ashon asked her as he pulled out her chair.

"Yes, I do. Something smells heavenly," Darra replied.

"I made linguine with clam sauce... is that okay?" he asked, while he busied himself opening the wine.

"Lovely! It's one of my favorites."

Ashon poured her a glass of wine, and put the finishing touches on dinner, and then slid a plate of pasta in front of her, before joining her at the table with his own dinner and wine. They talked of inconsequential things, the town and it's inhabitants, his work - he was a freelance writer, and before Darra knew it, several hours had passed. She realized she hadn't been near as self-concious as she would normally have been, and wondered why. She asked him about his unusual name, and what it meant.

"It means 'healer' in Hebrew, I believe," Ashon answered. "Have you ever heard the legend about the 'seventh son of a seventh son'?" he asked.

"I've heard something about it, I think. The phrase is familiar, but I'm not sure what it means," she told him.

"Well, according to folklore, the seventh son of a seventh son is born with what they call second-sight, and is able to heal people just by the laying on of hands. I'm a seventh son of a seventh son, and I think my parents thought it was sort of a nice tradition. That's where they came up with the name Ashon."

"You mean you have ESP, or something? You're a psychic?" Darra was incredulous. Did he expect her to believe that?

"No, nothing like that," Ashon was quick to correct her impression. "It's just that's where my parents got my name, that's all."

"Oh..." Darra's voice trailed off. She was relieved that she didn't have to try and suspend her disbelief for the sake of a decent conversation with a guy that seemed to be nice, as well as very attractive.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Heterosexual / Oral Sex /