The Witch’s Brew

"Sex with the devil strips the witch of her very soul."

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Pleasure and pain twisted transcendently, contorting with the curves of my breasts as he thrust. My head turned in an expression of ecstasy, screaming across the field. I clawed, drawing him deep to climax, dripping with desire as the devil pushed deeper, taking his due.

My soul for this moment, remembering eternal his one-touch, damned to watch others with only this memory, celestial in one fleeing embrace. He filled me, knowing me as it finished, evaporating at his end to leave behind a brewing cauldron of sopping lust, cursed to watch in wanton wistfulness until the end of days.

 

Published 5 years ago

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