XI

Laurel decided that she was ready to jump back into the saddle with Steve, so she waited with Theo at the coffee shop for his shift to end. Nobody had said it, but it was understood that Laurel should keep Theo close by for safety for her future engagements.

Olivia and Benedict entered the shop and approached. “Good morning! I trust you’re well?” Olivia said in greeting. Benedict offered a friendly smile - as much to Theo as Laurel.

“Hi. Um, yeah, we’re okay,” Laurel replied.

Olivia’s voice shifted to something quieter and more serious. “I wonder if I could have a word with you, Laurel.” She glanced at their companions. “Perhaps you two could give us a moment of privacy?” Theo looked to Laurel for approval, and she shrugged and nodded. Olivia sat down and Theo and Benedict wandered off to a corner of the store.

“Forgive my bluntness, but we’ve been watching you, and we’re concerned,” she said seriously. “There are at least two other covens in town. They might be responsible for some of the inconveniences you’ve experienced.” She waited to see if Laurel had anything to say. The young woman was listening carefully, but not speaking. “We have reason to believe that your friend Steve is deceiving you. Inter-coven politics prevent me from saying anymore.” Again she paused for Laurel’s reaction but got none.

Olivia stood up. “That’s all I wanted to say. Thank you for hearing me out. Call me if there’s ever anything I can do for you.” She tilted a head to signal Benedict and the two of them left.

Once lunch and the X-Men episode were over, Steve and Laurel began a spontaneous wrestling match: one that ended with her face-down on the couch and him laying mostly on top of her. His hips were off-center enough with hers to let him lift her skirt and tease her ass with one hand. Half of her face was pressed into the leather cushion, but she was smiling and giggling as he rubbed between her legs. He took off his pants and pulled her panties to the side.

“Are you cool with this?” He asked.

Laurel wanted it - just like this. Her animal self wanted to be mounted, controlled, and inseminated. She could smell his hard cock even if she couldn’t see it. She knew it was there just behind her - so close. Her primitive nature insisted that this was exactly right. Her higher mind cautioned her that he might not be trustworthy. Perhaps she should be on top, in control. But even if he was a spy, there was no reason to think he’d hurt her now. And damn it, she wanted him to dominate her!

“You better fuck me!” She taunted playfully.

He inserted himself - his throbbing flesh was welcomed by hers. He thrust into her and he weighed her down. She was helpless but it was comfortable - natural. She relaxed and embraced being ridden by him, humming a soft moan, while his thrusts escalated her excitement and prepared her to receive what he had to offer.

The spell. She should cast the spell. But what if he is a spy? Her human and animal brains agreed: there would be no spell, and there would be no pulling out if she could help it.

“Will you come inside me?” She whispered.

“What? Seriously?” He responded.

“I want you to cream-pie me. It’ll be fun! Please?”

“Yeah!”

He grabbed her shoulders and focused on nothing but fucking her. Her moans provoked him and excited him. She came, crying, “Oh god, just like that!” He kept going just like she told him to, and she never stopped wailing in climax, smothered and shaken, until finally his restraint broke loose and he gushed into her pussy.

It was a relief and a joy to feel him coming inside her. After all those times asking her men to pull out, she was suddenly struck by how incomplete and unnatural that had been - even if it was for a good reason. For a time they lay there, connected, him on top of her, both panting.

He began to move but she stopped him. “Wait!” He stopped.

“If we were dogs,” she explained self-consciously, “we’d be stuck together. A big ball at the base of your penis would be swollen up inside me and you wouldn’t be able to pull out. It’s kind of sweet, don’t you think?”

He didn’t answer with words - he just lay on top of her, letting his nose swim through her hair. Most guys would have called her a freak, but she knew Steve would understand. He even played along and licked her neck, which she answered with a happy murmur.

Eventually, they got up. He needed his pre-college nap and she needed to pee and clean up. She tucked him in before leaving, wondering if this was the last time she would spend with him.

Mrs. Mercer once again smiled knowingly at Laurel from her flowerbed.

“Those are beautiful geraniums,” Laurel remarked. Mrs. Mercer’s face lit up at the realization that Laurel shared her interest.

“Say, um, when did Steve move in here?” Laurel asked. “I know it’s a weird question but I want to make him a present and ... I guess it’s complicated. But I can’t just ask him, so...?”

Mrs. Mercer smiled her isn’t-love-wonderful smile. “Second half of August, I believe.”

“Of this year?” Laurel asked.

“Mmm-hmm!”

“And before that, he lived...?” Laurel pressed.

“Houston! You two are close enough that you should know that!” Mrs. Mercer teased.

Laurel blushed. “He likes to tease me with wild stories,” she said with a playful eye-roll. “Sometimes I’m not sure what’s really true. So he’s never lived in Montana before two months ago?”

“No! He’s never had the pleasure until now!” The landlady said with pride.

“Thank you so much!” Laurel exclaimed. She paused for a moment to think. “You know what? I think I need to, um...” she said before heading back into Steve’s guest house. She texted Theo that she needed ten more minutes.

Steve was lying on his back on his bed, with Laurel, naked, bouncing up and down on his dick. He couldn’t remember how long they’d been doing it, but neither of them was in any rush, so it was all good.

The door to his apartment opened and a young woman appeared in the bedroom doorway. It was Carla, his ex. She was wearing her club clothes - the shiny silver tank top that always managed to be just short of scandalous, her black leather miniskirt, and sexy stiletto heels. She sat down at the desk chair and watched him have sex. Laurel didn’t seem to notice.

“She’s not really your type...,” Carla observed.

Come to think of it, Laurel didn’t seem as pretty as usual. Her hair lacked luster and was jagged with split ends. Her teeth were sort of crooked and her breasts, even as small as they were, seemed to sag. Carla, on the other hand, could have come from a magazine photo shoot. Her hair was black and shiny like the ocean on a moonless night.

Another woman entered: Gudrun, another ex. She was wearing low-rise jeans and the barest of tube tops. Her blonde hair was done in two full-bodied pigtails high on the sides of her head. She bent down among the clothes scattered on the ground and picked up Laurel’s overalls. “Steve, honey...,” she said piteously.

“I know, right?” Carla agreed. “Steve, seriously? I know she lets you nut all over her, but what’s the appeal? Why her?”

Laurel was unfazed by the criticism. She just kept riding him, smiling at him warmly and looking ... somewhat cute.

“We’re friends. It’s sex,” Steve said dismissively.

Carla shook her head. “That might explain why you throw her a pity bone or make a drunk booty call, but every single day? Even in a town this size, I’m sure you can find a better ‘friend’.”