If the Broom Fits - Cover

If the Broom Fits

Copyright© 2019 by Armera Llsehi

Chapter 14

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 14 - Penelope is not your typical witch. She has her passions and her love for life. And sure, she messes things up a little her and there but that is neither here nor there. But when one of those mess ups leads them on a journey to fix it, not everything is so simple. But it's not the destination, it's the journey...

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fairy Tale   Humor   Paranormal   Furry   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Oral Sex   Public Sex  

Penelope is one her feet with her book. On unsteady legs, she fixes her hat and stumbles to the door. She looks out.

Coast is clear. Go for it!

Shakily she darts across to the cell where Faart is still completely passed out and then through the hole in the wall to freedom. No sooner does she make it to the outside of the dungeon does she hear the executioner stepping up to the cell and muttering a profuse line of obscenities.

That was a close one.

“You’re telling me,” the witch says with a heavy sigh of relief.


The next few days go abnormally. What qualifies as normal would be Penelope finding someone or something to fuck periodically. Instead, she hasn’t had anything stiff in her since Geubert in the cell. And by now she is getting real itchy down there. Hazel has been pretty happy, expressing her joy at finally having a normal journey and getting to the end of it without having to endure fucking another stranger.

The problem is they are lost.

I thought you witches could tell east from west and all that, like you have some kind of internal compass.

“It doesn’t work like that,” the witch says.

Yet you’re divided up into north and south and all that jazz.

“That’s just to keep populations of students equal in the schools,” she answers. “What about you?”

What about me?

“Well, you’re a cat.”

So.

“Don’t cats have internal compasses?”

No. Where the hell did you get that notion?

“Well, you’re an animal.”

And?

“Animals have that instinct.”

You’ve been reading too many fantasy books.

“I don’t read fantasy books.”

I know. You don’t read anything.

“I do too,” the girl argues. “I do have to study for school.”

Not hard enough obviously.

“This again?”

I’m going to bring it up over and over if I have to. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your lack of reading skills.

“I read perfectly fine, I’ll have you know,” Penelope bites back.

Explain why we’re lost then.

“Because I simply don’t know where we’re at.”

And the signs don’t help?

“I can’t read those, they’re in Elvish.”

I thought Elvish was the base of language in our world.

“Where did you hear that?”

I read it.

“How?”

I can read.

“When do you have time to read?” the witch asks, stopping on the trail. “You sleep practically all day.”

I may be lazy, but I’m not stupid, which is more than I can say for present company.

“You know, you are an incredibly mean cat.”

You have to be in this doggie-eat-dog world.

Penelope shakes her head. “What would you know about elves anyway?”

A lot actually. In fact I have a leg up on you.

“Yes, you have four of them,” the witch answers smartly.

Ha, ha, ha. I’m serious. Of the two of us, I’m the only one that can read Elvish.

“No you can’t.”

I most certainly can. Like if you would have known how you would know that each of those signs pointed to an elvish town.

“They could have said anything,” the girl argues. “You’re just pulling my tail.”

Pretend I don’t know how to read. Usually signs pointing in a direction mean something. Generally they point toward a town.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I need some rest,” the young witch suddenly announces. “How about we rest for the night?”

Don’t go changing the subject.

“Who said I was?” Penelope asks. “I can’t help it that you’re trying to sound superior. Besides, it’s the truth, I’m tired.”

Fine. You just keep deluding yourself.

“I will,” she says. “I hear a stream. We’ll make a fire and catch some fish.”

That’s about the only thing your good at, and probably because you have my body.

Penelope frowns. “If I could starve you for a night, I would...”


Hazel cannot wait to taste the girl, pushing her head between Penelope’s amazing breasts and licking all over her flesh. She savors the sweet taste of her skin. She pulls the dress down as she teases the witch, licking from the delicious dip between her full breasts to her stiff nipples. First Hazel takes one between her lips and runs her tongue over it, feeling it grow and stiffen even more. Then she swaps it for the other, running her mouth muscle around it in circles. Penelope is moaning, the cat’s tongue sending shivers straight from her hard nipples to her swollen clit.

Pulling herself out of this daze, Penelope pushes Hazel onto the ground. Her inner fire burns as hot as the campfire. She lands on top of the cat and kisses her lips. Hazel’s mouth and chin are wet from where she was soaking her master’s breasts. The cat is naked, the fire casting a soft halo of light over her soft fur. Penelope bypassing Hazel’s breasts and moves all the way down her body, she needs to taste that pussy. She has been fantasizing about it for months, which is why the need for the spell came about.

Hazel lies back along the ground, arms above her head and legs spread wide with the gorgeous witch between them. She feels the movement of the girl’s tongue from when she flicks at her clit to when she sucks it or runs her tongue flat over it. She feels the girl push it deep inside her slippery snatch. She especially enjoys it when Penelope pushes two fingers inside her to rub that certain spot. She is close, mewling and yowling. The witch wraps her lips around the cat’s clit and starts to finger fuck her harder. Hazel grips at the earth, her clawed fingers digging deep to fill her hands with clumps of soil. Then her body goes rigid and she is yowling, threatening to wake up the whole forest. The witch in response starts sucking and licking the cat’s clit even harder and faster. Hazel’s entire pussy tightens up around Penelope’s soft fingers, so tight that the girl can barely move them, and her juices gush all over them. She is bucking her hips, pushing her pussy into the witch’s face and mewling loudly. She feels every contraction and convulsion of her body as her breasts heave and her nipples harden.

Penelope’s eye pop open and she sees a man standing over her, looking straight at her. He doesn’t say a word, he just simply stands there. The witch looks at him quizzically, not sure what to do. He just gives her a small smile. It is now that she realizes that her hand is buried deep in her twat, under the dress. Slowly, she pulls it out and replies with a small smile herself. “Um, can I help you?” she asks meekly.

I think you were helping him enough already.

“I don’t know if you can help me, but you certainly look like you need the help,” he says smoothly.

We already know what’s on his mind.

“I can always use the help,” Penelope says. “It’s been days since...”

Penelope!

“We’re ... I’m a bit lost,” she quickly recovers. “I mean, I hate to admit it, but I’m a bit lost.”

“Tis alright,” the elf says, stepping closer into the light of the fire so that the witch can see him better and thus tell that he is an elf. “Many non-elvish speakers come into our forest and get lost. I keep saying we should put up signs in other languages, but the elders keep refusing to listen.”

“I take it that you’re from around here.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

Smart ... real smart. We’re in a damn elven forest and you’re going to ask a stupid question like that?

“You could be a traveler visiting family,” the witch tries to say to justify the question. “Or you can be a salesman.”

The elf laughs heartily. “A salesman? I do believe that is a first. And what would I be selling?”

“I don’t know,” she answers. “Maybe herbs?”

What the fuck?

“The only herbs I deal in are those I collect when I need them,” he says, obviously ignoring her lack of common sense. “So what brings a catgirl to these parts?”

“It’s a long story,” she says. “It’s a long one too. Wouldn’t want to bore you”

By all means, tell it again.

“I have time,” the elf says. “I would love to hear it. By the way, my name is Feno.”

“I’m Penelope.”

The witch tells her story once again, putting in only the important facts while leaving out a good majority of the details at the behest of Hazel. Feno listens the entire time, not interrupting once.

“Well, you certainly spin an interesting tale,” the elf says when she finishes. “I do believe that I can help you.”

“You can?”

Of course he can. They all seem to be able to help. And where has that got us?

Penelope smiles at the thought of just where it has gotten her. “So you know where the book is?”

“I do not, but I do know where the monastery that you spoke about is.”

“What will it cost me to know?”

“Nothing!” Feno says excitedly. You are a fellow traveler so I will depart my knowledge onto you.”

This is a first. But I don’t it doesn’t come without a catch.

“No catch?” she asks.

“None. If you that way,” he twists and points behind him. “You will come to a bridge with an ogre guarding it.”

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