Old, but doable. A real MILF.
He stepped out, met her green-eyed gaze full on. His boner wanted to rip open his pants … and a whole lot more.
“What are you doing here?” she said calmly.
Jason peered at her closely. “Hey, I know you. Everybody’s looking for your ass.” He’d seen her face so much on TV that he would have known her even if she’d whipped by on her goddamn broomstick at Mach 5. He laughed. This felt great. Wait’ll I tell dem fools.
“What is it that you want?” she asked.
“Shit, I don’t want anything. Just heard there was a party. Thought we’d check it out.”
“Where are your friends?”
Jason shrugged. “They got a little freaked.”
“But not you.”
“Nah, not me.” Check dem jumbly fucking bumblies, mon.
“I think you’re curious. That’s healthy, a good thing,” GreenSpirit said.
“Not that kind of curious,” Jason volleyed. He let his eyes wander all over the witch.
“You needn’t be ashamed of your interest in witchcraft. People are called to it from all ways of life.”
“I’m not called to this shit. I’m just checking out the party.”
“Then join us.”
She’s bluffing. He’d call her on it: “Yeah, sure.”
“But you must take off the rest of your clothes.”
No shirt, and now she wants dem pants? “No can do.” Not with his woody saluting the commander in chief.
“Don’t worry about that.” She eyed the bulge in his jeans. “Nobody cares.”
Another naked group drifted out of the forest to his left, the younger ones whom he’d watched from the ridge, including Christy. She stared at him like she was worried that he’d give her away. Her sister, Suze, stood close by. Suze knew what he had in his pants.
The old witch put her hand on his shoulder. Before she could speak, he slapped it aside. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch me.”
“Leave,” the witch replied.
A guy with blond dreads hurried over—a hippie asshole Jason had seen around town. Standing next to her like a goddamn bouncer. “Leave,” he said, but to Jason, he sounded like a jerk-off, and his dick looked smaller than a stinkbug.
“Yes, go,” the witch said to Jason.
“Nah, I’m staying, see how you naked witches party. Then I’m selling your ass to the highest bidder. See this?” He pulled out a business card. “CBS News. I got one from all of them. They’re all over the place looking for you. They want you to tell them all about your sex parties with your old boyfriend, Roger.” As in Roger Lilton, the presidential candidate.
He could see her face clearly now and knew that he’d spooked her. She was so desperate she was trying to fix him with a stare. What was that supposed to do? Melt him like he was some goddamn Snow Queen?
“I’m going to cast a spell on you, if you don’t leave.”
Did he hear her right? A spell? “What? Turn me into a fucking frog? Ribbit, ribbit.” He grabbed his swollen crotch, gave it a nice tug. “I’ll cast one on you, you’re not careful. Hey,” he tugged again, “you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?”
Much as he was loath to admit it, the witch’s eyes were freaking him out. He turned away, thinking it was time to go, then spun back, refusing to admit his fear to himself or to her.
The fucking witch threw something in his face. So light, it could have been dust; but no, it felt moist, like she’d spritzed him. Hard to say what it was, except it was cold, freezing fucking cold, and his face turned numb. A goddamn fucking ice cream headache. He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples, wincing. Her green eyes were looking past him. No, they were staring through him, icier still. Scared him half to death. Nobody had ever looked at him like that. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear shit.
“What? What?” he shouted.
The icy cold drained from his head. He was so grateful, he whimpered. But it kept draining—down through his chest, belly, and in the next instant he knew with horror where it would stop. You fucking bitch. You goddamn fucking, green-eyed—
The frigid flow froze every imprecation, settling like a blizzard on his cock and balls. Draining all desire.
His boner was gone. Forever. That’s all he kept thinking: Forever.
He ran off, moonlight still on his bare back.
* * *
Forensia stared at Jason’s panicky departure, and vowed to herself to work even harder on spells. She had never seen one executed so effectively. Everything she’d ever heard about GreenSpirit was true. She had