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The life-giving, warming rays of the morning sun crept through my window and wrapped me in their arms. I awoke to the heat of the sun caressing my nude body, inspiring my hands to caress my innermost folds where Sol couldn’t reach. Tweaking my already erect nipples into nubs that only knew pleasure, I concentrated my fingers further down, finding another nub that made my body vibrate with my own touch. My back arched, my eyes closed, and a loud moan of pleasure escaped my lips. My body reacted instantly, more quickly, intensely than ever before. Sex juice flowed out of my drenched pussy, soaking the sheets and filling my bedroom with the aroma of my arousal. Violently thrusting two fingers deep inside myself, my hips bucked, intensifying my own self-fucking. The wet, rapid, sloshing sounds mingled with my moans of pleasure.“Oh shit, oh shit, fuck yes!” I heard loudly through the wall. “That’s it you fucking stud; finger my ass while you lick me! Harder, deeper!” I could hear Melissa having her morning sex with Jeff. She was once more earning her nickname.I moaned in response and felt the floodgates in my loins open. Slowing my orgasmic assault, I allowed my consciousness to wander. My senses left my body naturally, without fear or hesitation, and floated through the astral plane, through the wall, and into their bedroom. I saw them as a stark, real mental image, felt them in my core; their pleasure fed mine, increasing my lusty fury into a passion worthy of the gods.My disembodied psyche whispered in her ear that I was watching and that her body was now mine, to do with whatever I pleased.In my mind’s eye, I could sense her climbing off his drenched face, his triumphant smile as she did, and then feel her pleasure and the sensations dominating her flesh as she plunged herself onto his turgid cock with a single thrust.“Do you want to watch me eat her cunt as you fuck me like this? You nasty pervert! No, you can’t have her, you’re not worthy, but you can fuck me…harder…and watch as I give her pleasure. I’m hers, she owns me!” she cried out.I could feel, almost see, the goddess-given energy of her pleasure leaving her overheated and sweaty body. It flowed to me in smoky tendrils, increasing my own pleasure, increasing my power. Amplifying pressure and tempo on my oozing snatch, I cried out at the top of my lungs as a divinely intense orgasm ripped through my body. My orgasm coincided perfectly with hers; we cried out to each other through the wall, through the spiritual planes, as we came in unison. My power ebbed from me at the speed of thought and filled her orgasm with even more intensity; her cries and guttural grunts lasted for a brief eternity.“I didn’t tell you to cum yet!” I heard her exclaim through the wall. “You’d better get it up again real quick; I’m not remotely satisfied.”I laughed.Refusing Melissa’s offer to treat me to breakfast—I was, unfortunately, scheduled for work—I dined on my leftover sausage and microwaved fries while perusing Aunt Grace’s primers on how to look sexy and witchy. While I always knew that she was insightful, my respect for her intuition increased tenfold.”If you want to attract a woman, dress for yourself paying extra special attention to enhancing your features and then your attributes. If you want to attract men, go one or two levels deeper towards slutty and trashy than is your goal. What you think is slutty is a man’s vision of sexy. What you think is outright bold and trashy is their vision of slutty. With men, the sluttier the better.”Her insight on hair and makeup was equally astounding.“Your eyes and cheekbones are the keys to the kingdom. Your lips, body, or anything else, can be less than satisfying to you, and even Ümraniye Escort not the preference of others. If you highlight the magic in your eyes and show some cheekbone swell, even if you need makeup, others will bow before you. A ‘tit man’ will follow you anywhere if your eyes catch him. A woman that prefers small breasts on her women will chase after your buxom self if your cheeks are rosy and swell with vitality.”There was more, much more, crammed into the roughly thirty pages of tips. Most of it was common sense such as “hair that highlights your face that looks either natural or obviously bold,” and “that sexy wind-tossed and somewhat wild coif is always a winner.”Her tips on how to dress also made perfect sense. I wondered if Aunt Grace made her fortunes by giving fashion tips. Following her advice, wind-tossed hair, dark, witchy eyes, and accented cheekbones gave me a seductress’ outer mien. However, I had no proper clothes to wear; my wardrobe was the polar opposite of provocative.Luckily, I found an old skirt, only worn once before, that would suit me fine. It was of a light emerald-green satiny fabric, covered in a delicate and see-through black lace with matching lace hem. I found an old Lilith Fair T-shirt that Aunt Grace and I had purchased for a shiny quarter at a garage sale or something. It was black, faded to mottled charcoal, and it had the old feminine goddess logo on the front in gold. It was, however, a size too small for me, so I seldom wore it after my final growth spurt. Now, it was my outer armor, adorning my mortal coil. Worn black combat boots and striped gym socks, just barely extending over the tops, finished the ensemble. My nipples refused to go down and stuck out tall and proud, tenting the otherwise tight fabric. Even if they had surrendered their swollen demonstrations of desire, the shirt clung to the curves and sides of my breasts, accentuating the obvious lack of brassiere.Setting out across from campus to serve my sentence at work, I noted that I was already late. Nobody would notice. They never noticed me.I always had to constantly dodge people walking on campus as if I were invisible. Nonetheless, the sun was shining just for me, warming my body, nude except for the thinnest of coverings. A pair of winged blessings, doves, a symbol of Aphrodite, herself, took flight as I neared and circled around me thrice before taking to the sky, cooing all the while. I hummed and sang to myself, noting how my breasts, freed from their modesty-inducing confines, bounced to my own, personal, music. Oddly, people heeded me, noticed me, wanted me, and salivated over me. They parted before me, giving a wide berth and plenty of delighted stares and smiles.It being Sunday, the progressives and protesters were out en masse. Freeing this person or that country, picketing and marching for rights or privileges they already had, or looking to right wrongs, be they real or perceived, their combined voices and loudspeakers filled the air with a cacophony of youthful exuberance. As my path brought me near a conclave of third-wave feminists, I noted that a television crew was recording. The speaker was upon her soapbox all “down with the patriarchy” and looking quite edible to my new, enhanced eyes that saw the divine as well as the mundane.I felt a sharp pang of lust for her as I watched her, full of enthusiasm and faith in her cause. Her litany of woes stopped suddenly as her head snapped in my direction. I smiled at her and gave her a look that contained the hunger of the gods, themselves. Her black-dyed short hair, tight and braless slogan-bearing t-shirt, and tight leggings made my mouth salivate and my pussy Ümraniye Escort Bayan drool. My lusty essence began to overtake my body with passion and power.“You!” she exclaimed through her microphone as she jumped off the podium, never taking her vibrant blue eyes off of me. “Lilith Fair! Let me ask you something.” All eyes and the camera turned towards me as she ran to me.“Do you believe that all women should be equal to men?” She thrust the microphone into my face. Her face was aglow with her purpose, but she also betrayed lust in her eyes.“No,” I said calmly into the microphone. I didn’t let it show, but the syrupy sound of my voice through the loudspeakers shocked me. It oozed sexuality and lusty desire, coming in breathy tones that reminded me of my pre-orgasmic voice. I fought back the temptation to sing “Happy Birthday Mr. President.”Her face was awash with stunned shock, crestfallen.I went on. “Why should I seek equality? Mere mortal men are not my equal…”The delighted eruption from the assembled women and their supporting men drowned out the rest of my response. I was going to say that I was touched by Aphrodite, herself, and was no longer a mere mortal. They missed my point in their fervor.“There you have it from Lilith, herself,” the spokeswoman said. We eyed each other up and down for the briefest moment and I saw her body react to my own lust. Her wanton smile proved that she felt our mutual desire as well.“Lilith, Lilith!” the others chanted. I shook my head in disbelief and walked on.I waltzed the rest of the way across the concourse, stopping every now and then on my journey through the “quad”. Others stopped and stared at me, most with open lust. I fended off more suitors over that few hundred yards than I had in my entire life. Their desire for me increased my own desire. I was polite, then condescending, gracious then bitchy. I was woman; I roared. Above all, I was ecstatic, noticed, desired, visible.Aunt Grace’s words came, unbidden, into my mind. I could clearly hear her mantra.“Remember, we all have different beliefs and different stations in life but we all have the same dignity. People will ultimately remember you for how you make them feel, nothing else.”Her words were wise; despite her stating that she used to be just like me, I doubted it. I had several decades of being trodden upon to make up for. I was relishing my power and the magick that I could feel pumping through me.I made it the rest of the way across the concourse without incident but causing quite a ruckus. Protestors ignored their causes, dropping their signs as they leered at me. Young lovers stopped eyeing each other and turned their stunned gaze upon me. The power throbbed to me, my pussy throbbed to match. Stifling a laugh as a poor bicyclist crashed into a tree with his eyes on my ass, not the path, I reached my place of employment.Steeling myself in preparation for being ignored, I pulled open the door to the little bookstore. Stunningly, all conversation stopped as I entered. Young men that I had worked with looked at me with stunned eyes, their mouths agape. The female coworkers all reacted. Some smiled at me, a few looked at me with green jealousy in their eyes, and another eyed me up and down, causing me to feel her longing and sexual hunger.Basking in the glow of dozens of eyes fixated upon me, I half “model-walked” and half skipped across the store to the time clock to punch in. My magickal awareness allowed me to feel the impact of their stares on my body. It was as if heat rays, powered by lusty intentions, roamed over my legs, ass, thighs, and now-flowing hair.“Krys?” I heard my manager, Bob, ask sheepishly.“Oh, hi, Bob.” Escort Ümraniye I smiled out at him. I tried to desexualize my voice; I failed. My voice purred out with barely-masked lust, making me a prime candidate to charge by the minute for phone conversations. “If you’re going to yell at me about being late, I’m sorry. ““Why were you late? You know we have a never-tardy policy.”I laughed, noting that my breasts were still so firm that they barely jostled or bounced. They did, just enough to enslave others. “Oh, I was masturbating.”My boss, Bob, looked at me, stunned. I pursed my lips and blew him a teasing kiss, licking my lips, fighting back another giggle as I went to my cashier’s station. I loved being around books, the words both beautiful and wise, but I loathed working there. I found solace in imagining the woman from the campus quad. Her braless breasts, pierced with small bars going through her nipples that pressed against her shirt; her pixie haircut; her exuberance all filled me with pleasant thoughts and overwhelming desire. She wanted me; I could have sensed that even if Aphrodite’s powers weren’t enhancing my intuition. I wanted her back, needed her back. That undeniable and overpowering sense of sexual need pumped through my flesh. It was as if I needed to feed on sexual energy. I tittered to myself over the divine creature I had become. I was a life-essence vampire, fed by the energy of passion.“Excuse me, miss,” a forlorn feminine voice said, breaking me out of my fantasy.I looked up, seeing a slightly rotund older woman with sorrow-filled eyes. I could feel a deep sense of pain emanating from her. I immediately knew that she was going through something very personal and very life-changing. She wore a simple black dress and a Christian cross on a fine chain around her neck. Her light brown eyes looked as if she had been crying. Her face was awash with anguish.“Yes, ma’am,” I said putting on my cheery smile and trying to exude comforting energies. “How may I help you?”She looked at me and smiled, brightening somewhat, and then reached down and picked up a medium-sized box filled with books. She delicately set the box on the counter in front of me.“My poor Roger has passed,” she began. “At least I won’t have to put up with his smelly feet stinking up our house…well, I guess it’s just mine now.”I felt empathy for her. I could feel her pain, sense it in her heart and chest, and wished that I knew how to alleviate it.“Well, his funeral was last week,” she went on. “He collected all these old books telling me that someday they’ll be worth something. They’re just sitting around, collecting dust, and reminding me of him.”“We’re not supposed to be buying any used books right now,” I told her. Then I added, in a conspiratorial whisper, “but let me take a look.”I took a quick browse through the box. There were some older Harry Potter books, an old, thin paperback of questionable quality with Ernest Hemingway’s name on the cover. I flipped that open and noted that the picture inside the first page had bled onto the title page. There were some others, all fiction, all not really anything seemingly of value.I felt for the poor widow and wanted to at least give her something. “There’s not much here and while I love fantasy and fiction, there isn’t much market for it. Will twenty dollars be enough for you?”“Bless you, you pretty young thing.“ I noted that she had been staring deeply into my moss-green eyes. “If I were younger I might have left, what’s his name, my ex-husband, for the likes of you!”“Roger?” I asked.“Yes, silly me.” She laughed wholeheartedly. “Did you know that butt-pile would get upset if I looked at another man, let alone a woman? Said it wasn’t natural for a woman to find another one attractive. The old stick in the mud! Now I can look all I want; don’t mind if I do.”We shared a laugh together as I took her identification and paid her. I was just getting ready to tag the box and take it into the back storage when Bob approached me.
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