Chapter 8

We slept for another two hours and when I woke Mandy was still lying on top of me. My cock had slipped from her pussy and she was leaking all over me, but I didn't care. I was here alone with a beautiful woman who loved me as much as I had grown to love her. She stirred slightly and raised her head. "Morning, my love; I love you. I'm the luckiest man on the planet—no, in the universe. You know, you're beautiful in the morning."

"No, I'm not, Jeremy. My hair's a mess and if I don't get up soon I'm going to pee all over you."

I smiled as I said, "promises, promises!" Mandy laughed and pushed herself up en route to the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later, climbing next to me. I rolled her onto her side and we spooned for several minutes as I warmed her body with mine. I raised her leg and entered her from behind. I moved slowly as I fondled her breasts, teasing her areolas and nipples, and nuzzled her tender neck. Mandy was moaning nonstop when she turned her head to kiss me. She pushed her tongue into my throat as our passion grew. My humping grew faster and harder; in response Mandy reached down to cup my balls. Her rubbing brought me along much faster than I wanted, but I wasn't going to discourage her—it felt great! As she rubbed my balls I reached around her to rub her clit. I found it hot and hard, covered in her secretions. I rubbed and tickled her nipple until she started to move, driving my cock deeper and deeper into her cunt.

"FUCK ME, JEREMY! FUCK ME HARDER! DRIVE YOUR COCK INTO ME!" Mandy was screaming, demanding in her lust. I was thrusting so hard I was afraid I was going to push her off the bed, but nature intervened and we both came—Mandy flooding me as she squirted for the first time while I was literally pouring hot sticky semen into her. Finally, we stopped. We were wringing wet, sweat pouring from us as we struggled to regain our breath. I looked down at the bedding—it was a good thing we were people of magic or my uncle was going to expect a new bed. This one was ruined.

I struggled to rise, pulling Mandy with me. We trudged to the shower and stood together under the hot rejuvenating water. "Damn," I said, "I have to pee."

"So, go ahead. You can get it on me. I won't melt. Hell, I might even like it. Here, let me hold it for you." So Mandy, my once demure virgin turned into a wanton woman, held my cock while I urinated. She deliberately directed the stream to her abdomen. "I like the warmth it gives me. Maybe we'll do this again." Finally my stream ebbed and we could wash each other. It was a long slow and loving process as we explored each other's bodies. When the water turned cold we exited, dried each other off, and donned the robes.

I led her to the kitchen where I made coffee, bacon and eggs. As we ate I could see she was thinking. "A penny for your thoughts," I commented.

"Oh, I'm just thinking how happy you've made me and how I don't want this weekend to end. We don't have to go home today, do we?"

"Not if you don't want to," I replied, "but we'd better let our parents know we're staying. We both sent telepathic messages to our folks letting them know we were OK, that the ritual couldn't have gone better and that we were staying for another day. I was surprised—no, astonished—when I got a message from MP telling me that she was thrilled for me. When I told Mandy she just showed me her beautiful grin and led me back to the bedroom. "Hmmm, I don't know if even magic can fix this mess." The sheets were stained with a combination of our secretions. When I lifted the sheet I could see the mattress was soaked, too. Uncle Phil was going to be pissed if we couldn't fix this. Mandy pushed me aside and uttered a spell. The sheets rose from the bed, were cleaned and pressed, the stains disappeared and the bed was remade. I looked at Mandy and she was blowing on the ends of her fingers, like an old-time gunfighter blowing the ends of two revolvers.

"C'mon, pardner, seems a shame to waste such a nice bed, doesn't it? Let's get in and get cozy." We climbed under the covers and snuggled together. I pulled her robe off and shucked mine from my shoulders so we could lie skin-to-skin. Mandy's skin was perfection—soft, smooth, and with no marks or blemishes of any kind. Her temperature must have been higher than mine because she always felt hot. I asked her about it one time and she told me I felt the same way. Magic? Maybe it was, but if so, it was the magic of our love for each other that made it happen.

That weekend we made love over and over until I couldn't get it up any longer, and then Mandy took care of me in her mouth until I was once again hard enough to penetrate her. We kept odd hours, fucking and napping throughout the day and night. I don't recall eating anything other than that breakfast. Too soon we had to leave. We strolled outside, enjoying the cool clear weather. We sat on the tree stump, recalling our first time together. Reluctantly, we finally turned and left. We drove home in silence, but holding hands the entire way. When I took her home her mother hugged me and her dad shook my hand with a smile, welcoming me to their family. Her brother Steven just gave me a "thumbs up." Later when we were alone he told me he had fucked Alicia four times in the past two weeks and she was right—she did give great blowjobs. Mandy opened her suitcase, showing her parents the gown she had worn and the virginal blood staining it. They nodded in great satisfaction. Since they knew about our relationship we were free to have sex at any time either in her room or mine. It seemed they welcomed Mandy's orgasmic vocalizations, which was good because Mandy was a screamer.

The school year was almost over; exams were completed in mid-June when Mandy and I decided to drive to a neighboring town to see a first run movie. I parked the car, locked it, and we walked toward the theater hand-in hand. I bought the tickets and opened the door for Mandy. "Oh, damn, Jeremy, I forgot something in the car."

"OK," I replied, "I'll go back and get it for you."

"No, that's OK, I can get it. Just give me the keys." Mandy walked back to the car as I turned to check out some posters for coming attractions. When I heard the screeching tires I knew there was trouble. I ran as fast as I could toward my car. I saw Mandy lying under the tires of a big pick-up. The driver, in an effort to reverse the damage backed up right over her chest crushing her ribcage. Using my magic I lifted the truck and pulled Mandy free. She was coughing blood as I took her into my arms. Mentally, I called 911 requesting an ambulance.

"Hold on, Mandy. Help is on the way." I stroked her hair and her cheek. Her breathing was extremely labored. Her blood was drenching my shorts as I prayed for her. Slowly Mandy opened her eyes. I looked into her face as she mouthed the words, "I ... love..." She died in my arms. I screamed a long time, uncontrollable agony expressed in my voice. "Why, God? What did she ever do to deserve this?" My tears flowed like rain. The EMT's had to pull me away from her. They sedated me and insisted that I accompany them to the hospital. I wanted to ride with Mandy, but—no—that wasn't to be. The cops arrested the truck driver. He was drunk.

My parents met me at the hospital. The doctors there wanted me to stay overnight but I refused. All the time—hours—I wept uncontrollably. When I got home MP was there and she was crying, too. She put her arm around me and helped me to my room. MP undressed me and led me to the shower where she supported and washed me. Then she dried me, helped me into pajamas, and put me to bed. I lay there for hours crying and screaming in my grief. Eventually, sleep—merciful sleep—came to me. MP stayed with me the entire time, sleeping in my desk chair or on the floor. She refused offers from my parents to relieve her.

Days passed and I was no better. Finally, the time for her wake arrived. Seeing her there, lying so peacefully in her coffin was agony for me and her funeral was even worse. I threw myself onto her coffin as they lowered it into the ground. I wanted to join her—be with her forever just as we had planned. When it was over everyone went to her parents' house, I guess, to console the family, and to relax after the ordeal. I sent them a telepathic message explaining that I just wasn't up to all the social interaction. They said they understood.

I was miserable for days. I didn't shave or wash and I couldn't eat. I threw up anything I was able to get down. I was a mess. The only thing that saved my sanity was MP's presence. Once again, she refused to leave me, sitting patiently for hours while I wrestled with the injustice of what had happened. Finally, unable to stomach the stench of my body she led me to the shower and washed me. I protested but my words fell on deaf ears. She used her limited telepathy to insist. In the shower she first washed and then shaved me. For the first time in over a week I almost looked and felt human. I dressed and went down to the kitchen to eat. My mother was there waiting for me. She said nothing but hugged me and kissed my cheek. I knew I was going to survive.

After eating a light meal I went outside, sitting by the pool to think. I was there until well into the evening before coming in. I told my parents I needed to get away. With Uncle Phil's permission I was going to the cottage. I assured my mother that I wasn't going to do anything stupid. I just needed to be by myself for a while. In the morning I packed my car, kissed my mother and hugged MP then I drove slowly away.

I went to the village for some staples. I wasn't there to feast. I just needed to survive—coffee, orange juice, milk and cereal, some fruit, and cold cuts and bread. That was enough to get me started. I didn't know how long I'd be there and I could always return for more. I opened the cottage, put my supplies away and went to the bedroom. I sat on the bed and the dam burst. I cried like I'd never cried before, so hard my whole body shook. All my grief was pouring out and I couldn't control it. I wept for two days until I fell asleep for almost twenty-four hours.

While all this was transpiring MP went to see my mother. This is her part of the story.

"Mrs. M. can I ask you something?"

"Of course, MP, come in. Please have a seat."

"Mrs. M. I need to ask you about Jeremy, but he put this spell on me. Can you reverse it?"

"Sorry, MP, only Jeremy can do that. Why do you ask?"

"I need to ask you about us—our relationship—but I don't know how to do it."

"Hmm," my mother responded, "can you reword your questions to be general—generic—rather than dealing directly with Jeremy?"

I thought for quite a while before speaking. "Mrs. M, I have this friend who is in love with a wizard. I don't mean the usual kid love. I mean real enduring love, the kind that will last forever. My friend wants to be with this wizard but she did something really, really stupid and drove him away. He says that he can only be with a girl who is a witch. So, what my friend wants to know is this—do you have to be born a witch or can anyone become one, you know, by studying about it?"

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