Amorous Goods: The Mirror & The Ring Part 1

Amorous Goods: The Pendant of Min & The Ring - Part 2

AMOROUS GOODS: THE RING [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-ring] - PART 2 WHY DO HER BOOBS LOOK BIGGER? Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-09.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. Back home, the five us of smoked a little weed, and drank either Bourbon, Scotch, or Tequila, depending on one's taste. I'm a Tequila girl, myself. Rod and Cole went for the Bourbon, Dan went for the Scotch, and Becca just kept smoking. The obvious began. Dan and Becca were on the couch, and they started making out a bit. It was just kissing, and Dan was feeling up Becca's boobs through her clothes, but it was enough for Rod to get started with me. I had decided tonight was the night Rod would get what he had been wanting, but I was a bit put off by Cole being there. I knew I wasn't put off enough by Cole being there, and that troubled me. I was having meta discomfort! Becca and Dan were in their own world, and I guessed they would soon move to my bedroom, and they did. I was now alone with Rod and Cole and Rod was kissing me, then Cole would turn my head and he would kiss me, and then Rod again, and then Cole again, and I was beginning to get dizzy. Each man had his own style, and as they kissed me, my clothes gradually left my body. Rod had rendered me naked on our previous date, but we didn't have sex, at least not in the Biblical sense. Cole had already seen me naked, along with everyone else at the Halloween party, but this was different because it was in an intimate setting. As if to underscore the intimacy, I quickly had four hands exploring every square inch of my body. Rod went for my boobs, and Cole went for my feet. It was pretty clear Cole had a foot fetish. I mean, the loving way he was caressing my feet, kissing my toes, complimenting me on my toenail polish, and just caressing them beautifully, over and over again, left no doubt at all about his fetish. I was proud of my toenail polish. I had a fly painted onto each of my big toes. Classy, right? That's when it happened. I realized this had happened to me before. When I had gone to that party at Purdue, seven years earlier, when I was only eighteen, two men had taken me to a bedroom and had begun to make out with me. I had been up for it, eager to experience sex, and the two of them had teamed up to get me naked, save for my panties, and then one man went for my boobs, while the other went for my feet, and all the while they were both kissing me, sometimes on the mouth, other times anywhere they wanted to kiss me. It had all happened before. The problem was I could not remember the faces nor the names of the two men. I didn't even remember having had sex with them, although it was of course obvious I did, since I became pregnant. The only thing I could remember was the word "Cod." Now I was living through the same experience. Was it possible it was a coincidence? I stood up, pushing them away. "Where were you, seven years ago?" I asked. "What?" they replied together. Oh my God, Cole and Rod? Could that be the mythical Cod? Was it these two men to whom I gave my virginity? Did they both enjoy me; that way; or was it just one of them? I shivered at the thought that my first (and only) time could have been a threesome! I was back on the floor. Cole was still going at it with my feet, but Rod apparently was a more conventional man. Rod removed my panties (I raised my hips to help him do it, even) and subsequently he was spreading my legs. Cole now (finally!) left my feet and moved to my mouth and my tits. Uh-oh, it was showtime. Rod was fingering me as if he were a brain surgeon, as it seemed to be his fingers had extraordinary delicacy and talent! I knew I was turned on; hell, everyone did. I could hear the sloshing sounds of my own lubrication. I hoped Rod was the kind of guy who would replace his fingers with something else, something a little bigger perhaps, at some point? I was on the pill. I was ready. I was more than ready! Hell, I was eager. Rod must have red my mind. It's also possible he had simultaneous, independent discovery of what turned out to be; quite simply; a wonderful idea. He adjusted his body, getting into position, and while I didn't actually lay eyes on his cock, it was no secret to me where it was, and where it was about to go! I felt as if this were my first time. In some sense, it was, since I had no memory of the sexual act the only other time, when I had become pregnant. My goodness, it felt wonderful. Rod entered me and I lost it. I tried to speak, but Colm's tongue was in my mouth. I was reduced to moaning. Rod's cock sliding into me, and then sliding back out, or almost back out, and then plunging back in, slowly increasing the speed, was sending ripples of some special kind of pleasure running through my body. I was bucking my pelvis up and down to match his thrusts. My enthusiasm was unbridled. I didn't fully comprehend it all at the time, but having one man give you a fuck from heaven, while another man was playing with your tits and kissing you, was; for me; perfection itself. It was only around two minutes after the fuck began when I climaxed, moaning into Colm's mouth, as his tongue was engaged with mine. I could feel Colm's hard cock against my outer thigh as Rod repeatedly plunged his cock into me. I knew I could never forget this! Rod had never asked where to cum, but I was glad when he chose to cum inside me, just like the mythical "Cod" must have done seven years earlier. When he was done, there was still Colm, as hard as a rock, looking at me expectantly. I figured he wanted to fuck me too, and as I was wondering if I could emotionally deal with that, my bracelet once again entered my head. I knew what to do. I moved around so that I held Colm's thick cock between my feet, and I caressed it with my toes. I had never done anything like this before, nor had I ever even thought about doing it, and yet, it seemed familiar, as if I had done it before. It's not the same as jerking off a guy, because your feet can't grab the cock, unless you're a monkey or something. It's just fondling and gently caressing, but with your toes, with my elegant nail polish, and not my fingers. Luckily, I had enjoyed a wonderful pedicure, just by chance, two days earlier, so my feet were all smooth and feminine. Funny, I had splurged for the pedicure on impulse, which is not like me. Could it have been due to my ring, too? Colm, to my surprise, squirted up into the air, just from the caresses of my toes and feet! After he squirted, Rod moved me around, and he fucked me a second time! This time he lasted a good, long time, maybe twenty minutes or more, and by the time he finished, I realized I had an audience of three naked people: Dan, Rebecca, and Colm. Rebecca was sitting on the couch in between Dan and Colm, and she had her right hand wrapped around Dan's cock, and her left hand wrapped around Colm's thick cock, and she was jerking them both, and at the same time! Whoa, Rebecca! You go, girl! I was super turned on that the three of them had watched us fuck. I was tempted to fuck Colm, too, but he seemed happy as it was, so I just relaxed and enjoyed the afterglow of Rod's amazing second fuck, which had driven me to two more orgasms. I think I dozed off a bit. "You know, sweet Michelle, you remind me of my dream girl," Rod said, when we were all awake and dressed, at least to some extent. I had my panties and a T-shirt on, no bra, and so too did Becca who had borrowed one of my T shirts, and the men were back in their Halloween costumes. "That's nice, I suppose. What happened to your dream girl? Maybe you should be fucking her instead of me?" I said, showing my annoyance at Rod's idiotic remark. Ignoring my remark made in anger, Rod continued, "It was seven years ago. Cole and I went to a Halloween party at Purdue. We were students at Butler University in Indianapolis, but Purdue had the famous Halloween party. Girls went to it from all over. Anyway, we got lucky, and met this super-hot freshman. She too was named Michelle. She had a pretty face, similar to yours, but a very different body. I was smitten." "How was her body different?" I asked. "This will sound crude, but she wasn't built like you, my lovely. She was flat chested, and had almost no ass. I didn't care, because she was totally my dream girl. It was love at first sight, maybe for both of us," Rod said. "Did she fuck like me?" I asked. "Funny you should ask. Yes, exactly! And she was a virgin, too, at the time," Rod said. "Her feet were like yours, too," Cole piped up. "Her adorable little toes curled up when Rod fucked her. I kissed her while Rod and her fucked, just as I did with you, and she didn't mind at all. She seemed up for anything with the two of us. We've never met another girl like her, ever again, until tonight." "Did you both fuck her?" I asked. "Well, first she played with my cock with her toes. That's when I developed my foot fetish, I guess. Maybe I had always had it, I don't know. But yes, after Rod fell asleep, I fucked her, too. Boy, could she fuck! She was my first, you know. Rod had been around the block, but Michelle was my first girl, ever," Cole said. "You never forget your first. I'll never forget my second, either," he added, looking me in the eyes, then letting his eyes wander down to my toes. "Some people forget their first," Becca said from the couch, and I shot her a death ray with my eyes. "What happened after that night? Did you continue to date her?" I asked. I had always wondered why I had never heard from the guys who fucked me at that Halloween party, seven years earlier. "Oh, I tried," Rod said. "Every weekend I'd head up to Purdue, looking for her. I'd party hop, hoping to find her at a party, and I'd walk around the campus looking for her. She never told us her last name, or anything, basically. I never found her. Cole looked, too." "I sure did. We spent the last two years of college looking for her, it seemed," Cole added. "Really?" I felt much better to hear that. "Listen, Michelle, you helped me get over my fixation on my dream girl from college. I'd love to keep dating you. May I?" Rod asked. "Yes," I said. "Can I come along on the date?" Cole asked. "No," Rod and I said together. Cole looked crestfallen, the poor guy. "Look, Colm, how about we meet up, the three of us, for brunch some Sunday, and I'll wear open toed sandals, and play footsie with you under the table? I mean if Rod is okay with it?" I offered. Colm's face brightened up considerably. We both looked at Rod. He nodded. Com exhaled, and he replied, "I'd love that." "Why didn't you tell Rod and Cole you were their dream girl from seven years ago? It's obvious you were," Becca asked me, when we met the next day for lunch. "I want Rod to like me for me, not because I'm the incarnation of some fantasy he's been having since forever," I said. "And I certainly never want to tell him he knocked me up that night. If it was him. It seems Cole fucked me, too." "So it sounds like you're taken with Rod," Becca said. "It seems so, at least for now. He's quite a strange guy, you know, and I'm not sure I like strange," I said. "Are you okay with me seducing Colm?" Rebecca asked. "Sure, it would relieve the pressure on me, to fuck him, too, which is not going to happen; but what happened to Dan?" I asked. "It turns out Dan is married. His wife was out of town. It's too bad," Becca said. "How was his cock?" I asked. "You saw it; it didn't live up to the promise of his big nose, alas. When it was inside me, however, it was perfection itself. I came three times during one of his fucks alone!" she said. "How many times did he fuck you?" I asked. "Four. Can you believe it?" "Four? You didn't have time for four fucks!" I exclaimed. "He drove me home, remember?" "Oh. Right," I said. "You going to keep seeing him, on the down low?" "No way, no how. He wants to see keep seeing me, but I don't fuck married men. Knowingly, that is," she said. "Right." "Colm, on the other hand;� "He's all yours," I said. "I promised him, though, to fondle his cock with my toes at brunch on Sunday. Say, why don't you join us? My toes will get him going, and then you can fuck him?" "Where, in the ladies' room of the brunch place?" Becca sarcastically asked. "Sure, why not?" I replied. "Michelle, your new jewelry is giving you one hell of a dirty mind!" Becca said. "You need to get a grip." "Are you here to return the jewelry?" Vikki nervously asked, when Becca and I showed up at her store. "No, I'm keeping it. Fabulous stuff," I said. Vikki smiled, and it seemed to be a smile of relief. Becca was wandering around the store, checking out some dining tables. "I have a question, Vikki," I began. Vikki encouraged me, so I told her the story; all of it. "Has your memory of your first time returned yet?" she asked. "No, and I still don't know why, but that's not the question," I said. Vikki waited patiently, and I continued. "The ring and the bracelet wanted Becca and me to go to a club, the week before Halloween, and so we did. There I met the very same Rod and Cole I've just told you about. My question is this: Could the ring and bracelet have somehow known about my Halloween deflowering seven years earlier, and arranged somehow; I have no idea how; for me to meet the two men again?" "No, of course not. The ring and bracelet couldn't possibly have those extraordinary powers, such as you ascribe to them," Vikki replied. "Okay, then," I said, relieved in a way. It would be scary if this had all been a set-up via the jewelry. Becca interrupted. "Is this Louis the thirteenth buffet enchanted? I'd like to have a man be compelled to fuck me, bent over a beautiful buffet like this one." The price, I had noted earlier, was $4,000. It's a good thing Becca is rich! Vikki and Becca discussed things for a while. I heard Vikki remind Becca that she didn't know which items were charmed, and which were not. "This other buffet, also Louis the thirteenth, however, should do the trick. It was returned for just that reason. So many men had fucked the woman who bought it, that she was going crazy. She claimed almost every man who entered her house fucked her, including her neighbor and his son, and both of them at the same time! Every man, that is, but her husband. I can let you have it for $100." "Sounds perfect. I'll take it," Becca said, as I just stared at her. Becca could really surprise me at times. "Colm," Becca said to me, as if that were an explanation, upon seeing my stare of incomprehension. Vikki smiled broadly. I made a mental note to keep Rod out of Becca's apartment. Vikki then turned to me. "No, the ring and bracelet could not have arranged for you to meet this guy Rod in a club. No, that would have to have been the doings of the necklace. You see, you need the added power of the gemstones for that kind of magic. I'm sure my Great Aunt Elizabeth would be thrilled to hear about your subsequent happiness. We have some ruby and jade encrusted earrings, too, if you're interested?" To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]; a collaborative storyline for Literotica AMOROUS GOODS: THE RING [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-ring] - PART 1 WHY DO HER BOOBS LOOK BIGGER? Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-08.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] "Are you sure this is the right way?" Rebecca asked me. "No, not really, Michelle. It's a small town around here somewhere, though," I said. "What's it called, at least? There's a signpost coming up," Rebecca said. "Middletown, what else? It's right, smack, dab in the middle of nowhere," I said. "You got that right," Rebecca replied. "Remind me again why we're doing this? And Michelle? Please don't say again, it came to you in a dream!" "I told you: I saw a little squib about an estate sale in Middletown. We haven't been to an estate sale in months, and I'll just bet there's some great antiques there. I know you love antiques. Hell, we both do! Also, it came to me in a dream," I said. Rebecca was looking at Google Maps on her phone. "Take your next left," she said. Then she glared at me. "Boy, this town is small! It's got like five stores total, and that includes the grocery store and the general store. This place has to be it," Rebecca said. "Yep. See the small sign in the corner of the window? It says Estate Sales." I replied. "The sign above the door, painted rather poorly I might add, says Amorous Goods. What the bleep does that mean?" Rebecca asked. "At least they spelled Amorous correctly." "Let's go inside and find out," I said, and I opened the door, causing a small bell to tinkle. A thirties something woman emerged from a back room, sweeping her dirty blonde, longish hair from out of her right eye, and she looked at us squarely. "Welcome to my store, Amorous Goods. I'm Vikki," she said. "I'm Michelle, and this is Rebecca. We thought the store was called Estate Sales R Us. Is this not an estate sales store?" I asked. I was confused, because what was inside the store looked exactly like the estate sales Rebecca and I have enjoyed haunting for the last couple of years, but the store name didn't fit. The furniture was so pretty, my mouth was watering. My apartment was still seriously under furnished. It's hard, when all that you want is antiques. "Oh, yes, definitely, but now I've devoted it to just one estate: that of my Great Aunt. She was a collector, you see, and what you see here is only around a tenth of her collection! Her estate will keep me occupied for years, I guess," Vikki said. "Why did you rename the store Amo

Amorous Goods: The Mirror & The Ring Part 1

AMOROUS GOODS: THE MIRROR [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-mirror] MIDDLE-AGED MAN BUYS AN INTRIGUING OBJECT. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-08.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. The bell above the door chimed as JT walks into the store. JT is an overweight middle aged man. His thin brown hair was falling out, leaving him with a big bald spot on top of his head. His brown eyes were flat and lifeless as if the world had completely broken him. His clothes mismatched and making him look decidedly worse rather than better. Vikki greets him with her usual bright cheery smile. Her voice sounding clearly from the back of the store. "Welcome to Amorous Goods. Is there anything I can help you find?" "No thanks. I'm just looking." JT says. JT walks around the store at a leisurely pace. Stopping on occasion to look at something or another. He comes to a full length mirror. Something about it catches his attention. He looks into the mirror and sees a gorgeous woman. He looks behind him, but there's no one there. He turns back to the mirror, and she is still there. Her legs are impossibly long. The black stiletto heels showing them off to their best advantage. His eyes tracing up them. He imagines how they would feel wrapped around him. Squeezing him as he pleasures her. Her short black dress fits her body like a second skin. Hugging her curves and barely containing her big tits. For several minutes he watches the rise and fall of her tits. Each time she breaths in it looks like her tits will simply fall out of that dress. He finally makes way to her face. Her sweet angelic face. Her ruby red lips are full and so kissable that he wants to dive into the mirror just to start kissing her. Her hauntingly beautiful blue eyes seem to promise all sorts of pleasures. Her scarlet hair falling down almost to her waist in waves. The girl in the mirror smiles at him. He feels like he is the only person to ever get to see that smile. His heart races as he continues to stare at her. His cock straining against his pants. He tries to readjust, but it does no good. Her mouth opens and she mouths something to him. He watches her lips closely. She mouth something to him again. "Buy the mirror, and I will be yours." Her smile seductive. JT nods his head, and her image disappears. The last part to fade away is her ruby red lips. "Excuse me Ms." JT calls out. "Yes sir." Vikki says as she comes from behind the counter. "I was wondering how much this mirror is?" He states. Vikki looks for the tag but isn't able to find one. She looks the mirror over as if trying to decide something. "How does a hundred sound?" She asks after a few moments. "I can do that." He states as he reaches back for his wallet. Vikki takes hold of the mirror and rolls it with her to the front counter. She rings it up, and JT hands over his debit card. He impatiently waits for the transaction to go through. When it does he signs the receipt and takes the mirror back home. The entire way he swears he can feel warmth coming from the mirror, yet the woman is not there. When he gets home, JT puts the mirror in his bedroom. He sits down on the bed and looks into the mirror. Slowly the woman comes back. It looks as if she's sitting on the bed next to him. JT looks next to him but of course she isn't there. He looks back at her. "I want you." He confesses. "Will you come out of the mirror?" She gives him a smile and points up. JT looks up and sees writing on the frame of the mirror. He thinks it might be writing but it is in a language that he doesn't know. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do." He says. His voice full of despair and longing. She makes a gesture with her hands and mouths a few words. JT watches her. Wondering what she's doing. She points up again. This time when JT looks up he can read what is written. "From the inverse of time and space, I free you. Come to me Xenova." He recites. Xenova steps out of the mirror. Her perfect body moving with a fluid grace that any athlete would love to have. Her blue eyes locked on his. "Oh Master. Thank you for freeing me from that awful mirror. An evil wizard trapped me in there, ages ago. I am yours now and forever more." She says right before leaning in to give him a kiss. Xenova presses up against JT Pressing him back onto the bed. She straddles him. Kissing him passionately. JT responds in kind. Kissing her. His hands caressing her back through the material of her black dress. Xenova sits up, pulling her dress up over her head. JT marvels at her lithe body. Her full perky tits. Her sleek midriff. He moans with desire and rolls her over so he's on top of her. Starting at his lips he kisses his way down her magnificent body. He quickly undresses. Watching her reaction to see if she's put off by his naked body. Just the opposite though. She stares at him while biting her lower lip. Reaching up she pulls him back down on top of her. She reaches down between them, and takes his fully erect cock into her hands. Squeezing it ever so gently as she guides him inside her. JT gasps in delight as he slides inside her. He delights in how she is just tight enough for him to slip inside of, yet also tight enough that there is frictions. JT starts pounding into her. Her cries echoing in his small bedroom. J Tee�s mind a complete blank as his body takes over. A loud frantic knock sounds just as JT is about to finish. JT tries to ignore it. Nothing is more important to him at that moment then filling her with his seed. "Sir? It's Vikki. From Amorous Goods. It's imperative that I speak with you. That mirror you bought wasn't supposed to be on the floor yet. A Succubus was trapped inside and I haven't had time to get her out yet." Something about the word succubus filled JT with dread, yet he couldn't stop himself. His need for her so absolute that nothing else mattered. JT felt his body clench as he began to cum. Xenova holding him against her as he squirted thick stringy ropes of cum into her. JT could hear Vikki trying to get into the apartment, but he couldn't move. Xenova opened her mouth and sucked his soul from his body. When she finished his body had shrunken. His life extinguished. Xenova got up and got dressed again. Vikki and another guy burst in just as she finishes dressing. She smiles at them, and jumps out the window. Vikki runs to the window and looks out. Watching as Xenova flies away. "Come on Mark. I guess we better find out what to do about this one. You really need to be more careful with what you put on the floor to sell." To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]; a collaborative storyline for Literotica AMOROUS GOODS: THE RING [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-ring] - PART 1 WHY DO HER BOOBS LOOK BIGGER? Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-08.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] "Are you sure this is the right way?" Rebecca asked me. "No, not really, Michelle. It's a small town around here somewhere, though," I said. "What's it called, at least? There's a signpost coming up," Rebecca said. "Middletown, what else? It's right, smack, dab in the middle of nowhere," I said. "You got that right," Rebecca replied. "Remind me again why we're doing this? And Michelle? Please don't say again, it came to you in a dream!" "I told you: I saw a little squib about an estate sale in Middletown. We haven't been to an estate sale in months, and I'll just bet there's some great antiques there. I know you love antiques. Hell, we both do! Also, it came to me in a dream," I said. Rebecca was looking at Google Maps on her phone. "Take your next left," she said. Then she glared at me. "Boy, this town is small! It's got like five stores total, and that includes the grocery store and the general store. This place has to be it," Rebecca said. "Yep. See the small sign in the corner of the window? It says Estate Sales." I replied. "The sign above the door, painted rather poorly I might add, says Amorous Goods. What the bleep does that mean?" Rebecca asked. "At least they spelled Amorous correctly." "Let's go inside and find out," I said, and I opened the door, causing a small bell to tinkle. A thirties something woman emerged from a back room, sweeping her dirty blonde, longish hair from out of her right eye, and she looked at us squarely. "Welcome to my store, Amorous Goods. I'm Vikki," she said. "I'm Michelle, and this is Rebecca. We thought the store was called Estate Sales R Us. Is this not an estate sales store?" I asked. I was confused, because what was inside the store looked exactly like the estate sales Rebecca and I have enjoyed haunting for the last couple of years, but the store name didn't fit. The furniture was so pretty, my mouth was watering. My apartment was still seriously under furnished. It's hard, when all that you want is antiques. "Oh, yes, definitely, but now I've devoted it to just one estate: that of my Great Aunt. She was a collector, you see, and what you see here is only around a tenth of her collection! Her estate will keep me occupied for years, I guess," Vikki said. "Why did you rename the store Amorous Goods?" Rebecca asked. "We almost drove right past it." "I did it as a warning. My Great Aunt Elizabeth Jackson Howe was an enchantress, you see, and a random subset of her estate is magically charmed. Don't worry, though, she was a good witch. You have nothing to fear, unless you're averse to sex and love, and nobody really is, right?" Vikki said. Vikki said it fast, nervously. Actually, I felt she was a highly nervous person. Her hair was back in her eyes. She nervously brushed it away again. I idly wondered how many times each day she did that? "Anyway, look around, and I hope you enjoy yourself. I'll be in the back room in case you need me for questions, okay? Just ring the bell," Vikki said, gesturing to a chiffereau in the center of the store, which had a cleverly positioned bell in it. The chiffereau was made of bird's eye maple, and polished to a shine. We both said thanks, and we began to look around. Clearly Vikki was a little nuts, but the pieces at the estate sale of her Great Aunt Elizabeth were stunning, and looked to be worth a fortune. They were priced accordingly, however, and were way out of my range. Rebecca was rich (inherited money) however, and she looked over things carefully, while I just walked around and drooled. I was disappointed. The whole point of estate sales, as opposed to antique shops; was to find fabulous bargains, and clearly there were none here to be had. None, that is, until I got to the jewelry counter. There was a ring made of 14 carat solid gold, with diamonds encrusting one small part of it, and the price was $100. It was priced at least ten times too little; many even twenty times, fifty times, or more! It came with a matching bracelet, and necklace. They too were priced absurdly low. I called Vikki but she must not have heard me, for she did not come. I finally thought to ring the little tinkling bell on a shelf of the chiffereau, as she had said we should do. Immediately she was there, right behind me, saying, "Yes, Michelle. How can I help you?" I wondered how she had done that so fast, without me seeing her? "I'd like to try on some of this jewelry, if I may?" I asked. "Yes, of course. You have a good eye. They're really beautiful pieces," Vikki said. Vikki was right! "If I may ask, is the ring solid gold, and are the diamonds encrusting it real diamonds?" "Yes, exactly," Vikki replied. "Why is it so cheap?" I asked. I didn't want to take advantage of Vikki. Maybe she had just left off some zeroes or something? "Oh, yes. Well. You see, a woman already bought the ring, the bracelet, and the necklace, and she paid full price: $16,000 in total, plus tax. It seems, however, that the jewelry she bought is enchanted, and the woman freaked out to such an extent that she returned them. I offered to return her money, but she just fled. So, I priced them to move. I don't want anyone returning them again, nor do I want to profit from her unhappiness," Vikki said. "Returning them to me, you see, seems to be the only way to break the charm." "The charm?" I asked. "Oh yes, you remember I told you a random subset of objects on sale here are charmed? Mostly I don't know which ones are charmed, but from what that woman said, this set of jewelry is most definitely charmed!" Vikki said. "What happened to make her think that?" I asked. "She wouldn't say. She mumbled something about too much sex. It didn't make a lot of sense to me. She said she almost lost her husband because of it. Primarily, she seemed anxious to put some serious distance between her and the jewelry as fast as possible. Say, you're not married, right?" Vikki asked. I laughed. "Far from it. I'm almost a virgin and have no prospects right now," I said. "I like the concept of being almost a virgin," Vikki said, clearly amused by my diction. I had said too much. "It's a long, complicated story," I said, in that tone of voice we all know how to use to end a topic of discussion. "I'm sure it is. Well, if I may say so, you look stunning in the jewelry. Did you notice how the ring almost glows on your finger?" Vikki asked. "It's good that you're not married." "You do look gorgeous in it," Rebecca added. I looked in the mirror. Wow. If there were a ten-point scale of prettiness, then (let's say) before the jewelry I had been a five, or maybe on a good day a six. While wearing the jewelry, however, I was a nine! Probably I was a ten, but modesty prevents me from saying that. It was amazing, and amazing in a good way. Vikki was right: The ring appeared to be positively glowing! "Why is it good I'm not married?" I asked. Vikki looked as if she had regretted saying that. There was a little back and forth, but I insisted she answer. "Not all husbands are understanding if, for example, you were to kiss another man," Vikki said. "Oh, I see!" I said, even if I didn't, and then the three of us laughed. This whole enchanted jewelry thing was nonsense, but I was getting a true bargain; almost a steal! "I'm glad you got the jewelry," Rebecca said. "You look stunning in it! You really do. I know you're wearing only the ring, but it even brightens up your face, somehow!" "I still can't get over how cheap it was," I said. "It's probably just paste," Rebecca said. "The point is, it fits you. You look great with even only just the ring." "No, I think it's real. I worked at my Uncle Jim's jewelry store summers, and after school, as a kid. I know fake from real. This looked real," I said. "Back then, I saw women come in wanting us to buy their engagement rings, with diamonds on them the size of Montana. Often, they were just gold plate and the stones were cubic zirconium, and I had to deal with breaking the news to them. It was heartbreaking. The same with their gold band wedding rings." "How can you tell solid gold from gold plate, just by looking?" Becca asked. "Weight. Gold plate weighs significantly more. Trust me, Becca, vee have our vays!" and I said it with a fake Nazi accent. "Real or fake, it looks great on you, and you look stunning when you wear it. Say, this is going to sound weird, but did your boobs grow recently?" Rebecca asked. "You mean like today? Like, since I slipped on this ring; which, by the way, fits me perfectly? My bra does suddenly feel kind of tight," I said. "I'm having my period, so maybe that's why my boobs are a little bigger. Do they look good bigger?" I had always been flat chested, and spent my adolescence waiting for my boobs to grow, which they never did. Until now, it seemed, after I had become resigned to a flat chested life. "Well, I'm not a guy, but if I were one, then yeah, they'd be mighty fine. Mighty fine," Becca said. "What's going on, Michelle?" "Damned if I know," I replied. "If I may ask, why do you always say you're almost a virgin?" Rebecca asked. "It's a long, and complicated story," I replied using a certain tone of voice that indicates that's all I wanted to say. It didn't work. "It's a long drive back home; three she hours at least. Spill, Michelle," Becca said. So, I finally told someone. I had never told anyone any of it before. "I had sex my freshman year, one time, one night," I said. "Everyone did. That's not a big deal, but it's reassuring to hear you're more normal than I thought," Becca said. I shot her a look, even though I was driving. "That's it? That's the whole story?" she said. "No. It was at a Halloween party, off campus. At a certain time of the party, my memories stop. I woke up, alone, the next morning, in my own bed, with a sore vagina, and it was matted with cum," I said. "Yeah, that sort of thing has happened to me, too. To lots of us girls," Becca said. "I have no memory of it. None. I don't even have a clue who the guy or guys were!" I said. "I had been a virgin, it was my first time, and it's all a blank." As I remembered it, I was sort of reliving the horror of it all. "Guy or guys? More than one?" Becca asked. How did Becca know to ask that particular question? "My mouth tasted of cum, I felt nauseated, there was cum matted around my pussy and all over my boobs, I was naked, and I had been fucked in the ass, too. Can only one man do all that?" I asked. "I see what you mean," Becca said. "Wow, that's bad. No memory at all?" "None. If it weren't for all the cum all over me and how

Amorous Goods: The Pendulum & Music Box

AMOROUS GOODS: THE PENDULUM [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-pendulum] A DEMON-HAUNTED PENDULUM GUIDES A MAN INTO A LIFE OF VICE. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-07.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. The dreams had been getting intense since Jack returned from Canada. He always awoke with flashes of imagery: torchlight against stone pillars, the reek of incense smoke, a pair of inhuman green eyes. Also, a word ringing in his ears: "Rozrael". Jack didn't immediately make the connection between his dreams and the obsidian pendulum he bought from a store in Toronto. It was the weirdest pawn shop he had ever seen: a red brick mansion that seemed curiously out of place within the shopping district. It was called Amorous Goods, which sounded like a sex shop. When he entered, it looked more like a shabby antiques store. Its items were a curious mix of the mundane and erotic. Lamps and pill-boxes sat beside bizarre pieces of erotic artwork; statues of nude women, early twentieth century paintings of orgies. Jack really wanted the antique erotic art, but he couldn't afford it. The owner didn't seem open to haggling. But he had to get a memento of the weirdest shop in Canada. So, he picked up this obsidian pendulum, with a metal chain. It was cheap and interesting. The pendulum looked like a pyramid with a hexagonal base. He paid for it, chucked it in his satchel and left. The owner looked like he couldn't wait to see the back of him. Days later, he was back in the UK, and the life from which he had fled for a week. He returned on Saturday night, and was expected back in the office on Monday. Jack wondered if the money spent on the flight should have gone into something that could have improved his career prospects. Or if he should have spent that time doing something to get out of that job. But he had been down that path too long, and it led him straight back to where he was now; in his thirties, doing data entry, and living with his parents. He needed that holiday. Sunday night, the dreams came again. The exotic, torch lit temple. And that word: "Rozrael". He woke to see the pendulum, previously in his satchel, now on his bedside table beside his alarm clock. "The fuck!" He jolted upwards. Did he put it there? He was tired last night, maybe he forgot. He looked over at his satchel, which was still in the corner of his bedroom where he dumped it yesterday. Sitting on the bed, he picked up the pendulum, examining it in his hands. "Take me with you." Jack dropped the pendulum. He heard a voice. A female voice. Was he dreaming? He wondered if this was a side-effect of jetlag. He put the pendulum back on the table, took out a notepad and biro and wrote down "Rozrael". Amorous Goods, Toronto. One year later. Dylan entered the shop floor holding a ledger open in front of him. Behind the counter was a young woman with red shoulder-length hair, peering at a laptop. "Vikki, look at this." "Umm hmm?" "You know anything about a pendulum that uncle sold?" "Ask Marshall,' she replied, 'he knows about this stuff." "This one might be tricky," said Dylan. "What do you mean?" "Uncle sold it to someone in England." "England?" asked Vikki. "Someone came all the way from England to shop here?" "Ever heard of tourism?" Vikki slammed the laptop shut. "Goddamn it," she exclaimed. "Does this mean we'll have to pay for a flight to fucking England to get this thing back?" "Hey, relax," said Dylan. "This thing was just a cheap trinket. Could be nothing." "I hope so." They turned to see a middle-aged man with a stack of papers under his arm. Marshall seemed unremarkable in khaki chinos and a button-down shirt. He was big-built, but had developed a paunch with age. Once, he would have been physically intimidating, but he still moved with youthful energy. "I heard my name," said Marshall. "You know anything about this pendulum in the ledger?" Dylan asked. "Oh, the pendulum of Rozrael? That item has quite a history behind it." "I knew it," exclaimed Vikki. "It's cursed, isn't it?" "You could say that," said Marshall. "It houses a powerful demon." "Okay, tell us about this demon," said Dylan. Plymouth, UK. Jack had a whole morning to kill before work. He wanted to see if this pendulum was an antique, if it was worth anything. He sat before his PC with a coffee. First, he wanted to google this word he kept hearing for the past two days. Google turned up results, but they were scarce. All he could find was the name of a demon from some grimoire called Liber Virtute. There was an online archive of historical grimoires, scanned from public and private libraries across the world. This demon seemed to be on the lower end of a demonic hierarchy, nothing else to be red besides a name and a seal. While other demons had descriptions of their office and their position in the hierarchy, this one didn't seem to be worthy of description. So, he was being contacted by a demon. Or he was losing his mind. There was only one way to find out. Jack signed up to web forums frequented by occultists, people who actually practiced this stuff. He made his intro post to several of them, and then posted his request for information, along with a quick photo of the pendulum. Then he packed his rucksack and left for work. "The pendulum was created in sixteenth century Venice," Marshall explained, "on commission by an occultist named Marcilio Cellini for a merchant called Filipo d'Este. Filipo married into the family who became the Hapsburgs that ruled England since the British Empire. Filipo did not simply want money. He wanted power. "To get that kind of power, one must be a commanding presence. Filipo was simply a merchant who rode on the tails of his ancestors." "So, the only way he could get that kind of power was through magic," Vikki interjected. "Precisely. He hired Marcilio to create a talisman for this purpose. Unfortunately, he did his job a little too well. This thing housed a demon of immense power, giving her a foothold in this world. She piggy-backed on Filipo's earthly desires to establish her own kingdom." "And this demon was Rozrael?" asked Dylan. "Correct. When the she unites with the owner, her power shines through them, making them charismatic and unstoppable. She eventually was stopped when the pendulum was passed on to his eldest son. He made too many enemies in business and politics. And he slept with the wives of powerful men. One of whom had him assassinated, ending his reign, and ending Rozrael's influence." Jack's day at work was the same underpaid monotony he tolerated for years. He got off the bus at the local depot, where he worked in data entry for a communications company. Every day, for seven hours, he sat at a desk and typed in postal addresses. It was an open plan office. Thousands of black and white address labels passed his screen every day. Nearby, a huge window opened out onto an industrial landscape, where he glanced at the sun as it set each evening. Jack's attempts at leaving this job in the past had been met with a wall of silence: job applications, the occasional "informal chat" over the phone, a half-assed Linked In profile. All of which no one cared about. Every day Jack started his shift with this thought, which he kept to himself. Until he opened his rucksack, and found the pendulum at the top of the pile. He dropped the rucksack. Did he put it in there without thinking? He must have put it in there by accident. Somehow. Jack took the pendulum out, looking at it. He noticed the cluster of desks on the other side of the office where the managers carried out administrative tasks at their own computers. Among them was Sadie, striding between desks with papers in her hand, obviously busy. Sadie would have been plain and unnoticeable. However, she knew what she was doing with her hair, clothes and make-up, making the most of what she had. She had long, dark voluminous hair that framed mousy features, although her lips were full and luscious. She would flash a beautiful smile at him as he passed her in the corridors. Sadie was slim, but curvy in the right places, and she dressed in a way that accentuated her figure. Jack never forgot the Christmas Eve when the managers wore casual clothes. Sadie's tight jeans made a lasting impression on him. When she bent over the desk in front of him, his erection got so big, he had to spend his break sat at his desk. Jack absent-mindedly fingered the pendulum, thinking about that ass as Sadie walked towards his desk, a mound of papers clutched against her chest. He let the pendulum drop between his fingers, watching it swing back and forth, always in the direction of Sadie walking past. Jack looked at it, then put it back on his desk. "So, the pendulum," Vikki asked. "What's so sinister about it?" "It houses Rozrael and is used to communicate with the user," Marshall explained. "It answers simple yes or no questions. It points him in the direction of business opportunities. Sometimes, it will point to sexual opportunities. Filipo used it to judge which ladies in the Venetian courts would be open to sleeping with him." "Are you saying," asked Dylan, "that this pendulum dowses for pussy?" "Correct," Marshall smiled. "But to Rozrael, sex is a means to an end. Any domain she establishes won't be in the interests of humanity. It may be a portal between whatever hellish dimension she comes from into our world." During quiet moments, Jack would pick up the pendulum from his desk and let it swing. He noticed a pattern in its movements, always swinging in the direction of certain women. Perhaps he was just horny. Perhaps it was his imagination. He had not had sex in years. The pendulum swung in the direction of Donna, sat nearby. A Goth back in the day, she still wore band T-shirts in her thirties. Dark hair, pale skin, and impressive tits that Jack struggled not to stare at. Her big tits jutted through a black T-shirt with some obscure metal band print. Donna never showed him much attention. They never spoke. Jack never knew what to say to her. The pendulum was interested in her though. It swung in her direction, not wavering until Sadie walked past. Then it would follow Sadie, until her fine ass had sauntered around the corner. Then it would go back towards Donna, until Jack put it back on the desk, before someone noticed. His shift ended. He packed his rucksack, got up and caught the bus home. An hour later, sat at his PC desk, he logged on to see the responses to his queries that morning. Responses were few, but revealing. It turned out that the Liber Virtute had a small but dedicated following of experienced occultists, who had been experimenting with it for years. And they were happy to share their advice. "What else do we need to know?" asked Dylan. "She appears to the magician in a way that is sexually enticing. She appears as a woman, with certain features exaggerated." "Certain features?" asked Vikki. "Tits and ass, usually" Marshall replied. "Thanks for clarifying." "When she fully unites with the operator, she guides them, and her sexual power shines through them into all they meet." "How do we stop her?" asked Vikki. "You probably won't have to. In fact, I would classify this task low priority." "Low priority?" exclaimed Dylan. "A demon is trying to take over the world, and this is low priority?" "Our customer is highly unlikely to accomplish anything with the pendulum alone. He needs the grimoire containing Marcilio's notes. It tells us how to wake that demon back to life, and it tells us how to put her back down again. And it's in our vaults." "So, we're safe?" asked Dylan. "For now," responded Marshall. "We should get it back at some point, but let's focus on the real dangerous ones, the ones bought locally. Save this one for a vacation abroad." Vikki frowned and pulled out her laptop. "What did you say his name is?" Jack sat on his cheap office chair in semi-darkness. His bedroom was lit by a single beeswax candle on top of his cupboard. Illuminated by this candle was a piece of paper, on which Jack had scrawled the seal of Rozrael. In his hand was the pendulum, hanging between his fingers as he gazed at the seal. His online friends had given him a simple ritual to contact Rozrael, who was largely unknown and lacking established contact protocols. Jack was glad he didn't need the complicated, near-impossible tools that more established entities in the Liber Virtute required. Jack gazed at the seal and chanted the name over and over. He lost of count of how long this took. His eyelids drooped, blurring his view of the seal. The pendulum clattered to the fiber glass surface of the cupboard, jolting him upright. The room seemed to be lit by a golden glow. Jack swung around slowly in his office chair, and saw a light behind him. The other side of his bedroom opened out onto a bizarre scene. Where his bedroom ended was now a vast room, lit by flaming torches ensconced on huge stone pillars. A tall figure emerged from between the pillars, into the torchlight. A woman, slightly taller than Jack. She was clad in black latex, buckled and strapped across the front. She resembled a stereotypical dominatrix, her boots resounding across the stone floor. She appeared human, although unearthly. She gazed at him with bright green eyes, in a face that was inhumanly beautiful. Her should-length hair was blonde, shining with a fiery aura. Her fingers were a little too long to be human, slender with claw-like nails. She seemed too perfect, like a photoshopped pornstar come to life. Her tits were huge, straining to break free from the buckled latex. And yet she had the body of an athlete, slim, with long legs. "Rozrael?" Jack said. "Of course." She strode into his bedroom, standing a meter away. Jack stood, but remained silent. "What do you want?" she spoke in an echoing voice. "Are you the one who calls me in my dreams?" he asked. "Yes." Jack kept glancing at her tits, the cleavage behind the straps. "Why?" "I think we can work to each other's benefit. I can make you powerful." "How?" "When we unite, nobody will be able to resist you. Women will desire you. Men will fear you. This way, your status on Earth will rise." "What do you want from me?" She reached forward with a long, slender hand and brushed it down his chest, down to his crotch. Her touch was cool, electric. He let out a sharp intake of breath as she gently reached for his balls over his jeans, holding them. "Give of yourself to me," she said. "And I will give of myself to you." With her other hand, she unbuckled her top, revealing her magnificent cleavage. Huge tits burst out almost to the nipple, as her top opened down to her midriff, casting a shadow over her toned stomach. Jack was transfixed, as she ran her fingers up underneath his T-shirt, back towards his chest. His cock was hardening already, straining beneath his jeans. He needed no instruction. "It's a deal." Jack unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down, revealing a semi-erection in his black boxer shorts. Still with a hand on his chest, she pulled his boxers down with the other hand, releasing his cock and gazing at it with a smile, as she cradled his exposed balls with her other cold hand. He went fully erect immediately. She pushed him towards the bed behind him. "Sit." Jack lay back on his bed, his erect cock between him and the busty demoness. Her other hand reached down to the shaft of his cock, and she bent forward, swallowing his cock. She cradled his balls as she ran her mouth up and down his shaft, engulfing it right down to the base. He had never received a blowjob this deep before. His entire groin felt charged with a cold, fiery energy. Jack expected to shoot his load in seconds. Strangely, this blowjob was prolonged, like he wasn't allowed to cum, not just yet. He lay back as this energy engulfed his body from his groin. When he exploded in her mouth, he convulsed a few times. It felt like more than just semen leaving his body. The energy left too, and he felt empty. Jack lay back and watched her stand up from his body, releasing his spent cock from her mouth, to his thigh. She knelt between his parted legs and unbuckled her latex top further, pulling her top apart to allow her huge tits to fall out in the torchlight. Her tits were round and firm; large pink nipples with areolas that seemed stretched out by the size of her tits. Her nipples were thick and erect. The desire in him was strong, but he was tired and weak. She took his hands, pressing them to her tits. He squeezed and fondled them, feeling their weight, their smoothness. His thumbs went over her hard nipples, and they seemed oddly moist. She reached behind his head with one hand, pulling his head towards her tit. His mouth clamped eagerly over her tit, his tongue flicking against her hard nipple. It tasted faintly salty. He sucked harder, and more fluid trickled into his mouth, down his throat. He felt it build in his body. More fluid came out, and he felt his lust return. Eventually, he didn't need her to hold him. He sucked eagerly on her tit until she wrapped her arms around his head and pulled his face down between them. For a second it seemed as though he breathed in her entire body into his, before everything went dark. Jack woke up on his bed in darkness, his pants around his ankles, his stomach and chest wet with semen. The temple scene was gone. He got up from the bed, pulled his pants up and walked to the bathroom. Wincing when he turned on the light, he washed his hands. He splashed water on his face and looked in the mirror, running his hands over his forehead, his cheekbones, his jaw, like he had never seen them properly before. He liked what he saw. And he felt powerful. The next day, Jack walked into the office, as usual. But this time, things seemed different. People looked up from their desks as he walked in. Maybe it was the way he carried himself. He didn't know. He looked at the world around him with new eyes, and he saw a world ripe for the taking. Jack sat at his desk, got out his iPod and water bottle, and then the pendulum. When no one looked, he let it hang between his fingers. It swung towards the stairwell nearby. He watched the glass doors to see who it might be pointing towards. Sadie came up the stairwell towards the doors, and t

Amorous Goods: The Mask

AMOROUS GOODS: THE MASK [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-mask] A HAUNTED WARRIOR MASK TAKING FRUITS OF VICTORY AFTER DEATH. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-06.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. THE MASK. "I've been here nearly a week now, I promise I'm settled in.; Just let me know when you can come down and see the place. I'm still just trying to find this and that, to decorate the place with," Bethany told her friend on the phone. "I can't wait to see the new place, maybe throw a party," Tabitha asked. "A party? I don't know anybody here." "Never know. By the time I get there, you might even have a man, who has a friend or brother that I can hook up with, whenever I visit," Tabitha hoped. "Ha!; keep dreaming. I'll worry about a man if Mandingos batteries die when all the stores are closed." "Even Mandingo can't replace having some hot sweaty man-god thrusting inside you, as his weight presses down, breath down your neck-" "Stop that, Tabby." "Thrusting hard. Thrusting hard. Bam bam bam! That cum coats your walls." "Oh my god;� "Thrusting!" "I'm going to hang up." "Thrusty thrust," she laughed. "So I heard about this place that sells antiques, that I want to check out. I ran in to one of the employees at some farmers market, flea market thing, Dylan, I think his name was." "So some dusty ass store with ancient relics of crap?" Bethany sighed; "you know I like vintage stuff. The place is called Amorous Goods, apparently they don't just take any old junk, the owner is a collector who's very picky and I think he said that most of what was there was actually inherited to her." "So an uppity dusty ass store with ancient relics of crap." "Damn it, Tabby!" "Okay, sorry. I'm sure the place is nice. Hell if the place is that good; I might find something I like." "I'm going to check it out tomorrow." "So you going to play with Mandingo, now? Should I let you go?" "I still have to put my bed together and a few other things, he's always ready when I want him." "You really do believe that dildo is better than the real thing? Just gonna swear of men for good?" "Not for good, but for a good while, at least until masturbation can't stop the urges, then I'll get some fool and kick him out before the sun rises; if he's lucky." "I should probably get off here anyway, I gotta go to work and a hot stud should be knocking on my door soon. Tell Mandingo I said hi." Bethany looks at the piles of boxes and what unpacking is left, asking herself who she's kidding, all she wants to do is lay that mattress on the floor and feel that big veiny bastard fill her insides. With a hard defeated sigh, she makes her way to the bedroom, might as well get it over with. Cursing herself for getting such a large bed; dragging the frame pieces where she wanted them, painstakingly bolting it all together, cursing the design. Carrying and dropping in both box frames without hitting the ceiling or knocking anything over, she eye's the mattress with disgust snatching at the seemingly three hundred pound thing, flopping it across and flopping down on it. Bethany glares at the mirror sitting on the dresser, muttering "tomorrow". Bethany wriggles out of her jeans, kicking them to the floor, sitting up and pulling off her shirt, relieving her shapely tit from their constraints, flopping down with joy. Side-eyeing the light switch for still being on; tosses a shoe at it bringing darkness to the room. Rolling over to her nightstand, pulling out her number one fuck buddy; unwrapping it from its satin sheath. Kissing the tip, whispers "hello", before sliding it down her spread cleavage, rubbing the shaft across her lower lips, feeling the bulging veins, pressing harder until the friction starts to pull her lips. "You know better than that, Manny," she reached in the drawer for lube. Once lubed; she slowly pushed him in, while rubbing her clit, getting herself wet. Rubbing herself circular while Mandingo just sits in her, in no hurry to climax, closing her eyes, imagining somebody like the All State guy is working her over. Legs spread wide, Mandingo rarely slides out, reaching under her leg to give him a twist, slowly pulling him out to the tip, leaving the head inside, sliding back in with a shudder. One more time. Mandingo slides out to the head, her fingers press hard on her clit during the return, soften on the pull out, pressure and push, relent and remove. Pressure and push. Relent and remove. She struggles to catch her breath, her legs drop, scooping up on of her tit in a tight squeeze, Bethany closes her legs around Mandingo while dragging it in and out. It's veins rub against her clit, her body now on auto-pilot, mind zoned out, climax building to its peak, snapping her back to reality. A deep gasp for air, exhaled from deep within her. Rolling over to her side, Mandingo still in her, she passes out. Bethany wakes up midafternoon, giving Mandingo the side eye, making her way to the bathroom with him, to wash him off. Brunette hair in a tussle; shambling, decides to take it in the shower, contemplating round two as she soaped him down, forcing the urges away, rinsing and tossing him in the sink to dry, a sigh with her decision. Out of the shower, dried off, thrown on clothes, kicking boxes to freedom. Pulling in the small parking lot of Amorous Goods, walking in as the joyous scents play with her nostrils. "Welcome to Amorous Goods, I'm Vikki, the co-owner," without taking her eyes from her laptop, when she heard the door chime. "Hi; Dylan I think it was, was right, this place looks amazing," Bethany looked around. "That it is," Vikki glided from around the desk, "come peruse our inventory, I was just following up with one of my employees reports." "I was at this flea market thing and I talked briefly with him. He said he was looking for special items, and I think hitting on me." "Yeah. Dylan likes the fluffy girls," she smirked, leading her around the first floor. "Amorous Goods doesn't just take any 'ol junk, just because it's old, doesn't make it valuable, doesn't mean our prices aren't fair either." "That's good." "Indeed. We just don't have antiques, but antiquities, artifacts, and some this and that, trinkets. I had some boring job, and took this as a chance of passion," she exclaimed, "An ancestor of mine got this place decades ago, this mansion was a brothel in which a long ago grandmother worked at, she somehow got the place, legend speaks, she found love, the owner wouldn't let her be free, so she wooed him, got him drunk, got the deed signed over and killed him, sounds like a movie, right? Her husband was a collector and the place was perfect. For some reason my family wanted nothing to do with this place because of the history. Me and cousin chubby-chaser managed to inherit it." "Wow, that's crazy," Bethany replied, looking and inspecting things. "The crazy thing is some of this stuff is cursed, or has magic properties. I hired an Occultist; Morgana, to catalog and test items, neutralize anything too dangerous, or for customers who still want the thing, but without it's; whatever it does. Creeped out, yet?" "No, not at all, I'm looking for a bit of wall d�cor, I just moved here for a job. I love this kind of stuff, I'll probably be a return customer." "I see you eyeing that African male fertility, like you want to; have fun with it. Don't worry; I've thought about it too; gets boring sometimes. Follow me." She thinks to herself Morgana should inspect it. Vikki lead her to a rack with various mask hanging from it. "Legend states these African mask were worn by warriors, if they die in battle, their soul is said to inhabit it. Some say a woman shouldn't trifle with them, but if you pick one where he died in victory; it might help with that jungle fever," Vikki laughed. "Oh this one looks like he might have been a; Hmm; to wear that." "I'll tell you what; since you're the new girl in town and appreciate old things; forty bucks. New customer discount." "Vikki, you have a deal." "Remember; if anything not safe happens, bring it back ASAP." "I promise." After getting acquainted with the area, window shopping various stores until she found what she wanted. Satisfied with it all, Bethany stops at a local restaurant for a late lunch and probably dinner, at an outside table, she calls Tabitha. "Hey, Beth," she greeted. "You check out that place?" "I just came back from there, such interesting history if it's true. She said her great-great-great grandmother got the place, it was originally a brothel she worked at." "Isn't it some strip mall store?" "No, it's an old Victorian mansion. The funniest thing is she claimed that some of the stuff there is like haunted," Bethany laughed. "Probably just a gimmick, that's how they peddle their junk." "Well.; There was this African statue with a big cock; like half the length of Mandingo, that was slightly arousing," Bethany mused. "That's just your pussy begging for some black cock, just scoop you up some twenty something black dude, get his number, throw that Milf pussy on him, shoo him out till you need some more." "Jeeze Tabby; that's not; what; why would you;� "Yeah, as much as you need it, he'd have to move in with you." "No he would not. Why am I even discussing this?" "Here's your order, ma'am," the waiter brought her food. "Thank you." "He sounded black, get his number." "He was not and no. You're always talking about sex, maybe you need to get laid." "Honey, I get mine. The toys not at my desk at work, are collecting dust." "Should you be proud of that?" "That I get all the cock; they're proud of it, men fuck to their hearts content, brag about it, have play by plays. I'm a stud like they are. Any woman out age should be proud." "I guess you have a point. I just want one guy that can do it right, when I'm ready, and it'll be good for me." "Give that dildo a rest. I bet that waiter was checking you out." "He was not." "Are you dressed like some old gypsie woman?" "Yeah...," Beth sighs. "You know guys love that voluptuous body of yours." "Tell you what; when you come here, we'll find some good cock. I'll figure out the good spots." "That's the spirit. Can't wait." CHAPTER 2 Bethany clears and unpacks more boxes, surveying where to hang the mask, hanging opposite of the walls of the television and couch, near the doorway to the rest of the apartment. Staring at it intently, using a cleaning wipe, to rid it of dust and dinge. She wonders what the man looked like, who bare the mask in battle. He had to be buff, tall, broad, could lift her like a child, throw a spear like a bullet, and most likely put Mandingo to shame. Bethany places a hand on the mask, feeling the ebony black wood, the sharp teeth, wide joyous eyes, ready to jump in battle, eager to reap the rewards of victory. She pulls herself away from it, setting up her television stand, as she hefts the large sixty inch flat screen, cursing herself for keeping it after the breakup. A sensation of hands ran down her shoulders, to her elbows, wrapping around her hands, cutting the weight of the thing in half. Gone once the television was placed, briefly returning firmly around her waist as she steadied herself, dissipating. A chill down her spine, quickly shaking it off as something that actually happened. "Weird. Maybe I'm just tired; ugh; the cable and internet guy is scheduled for eight, so he'll probably be here near noon. Whelp, better get some rest, who knows when he'll get here," she tells herself. Bethany strips down, readying her shower, eyeing herself in the mirror; her curvy figure, large chest, turning to see her plump rear end, rubbing a hand down her thick thighs, cupping and lifting her stomach, flesh caressing around her fingers. Guys really like this, all this, she thinks. Big tits and fat asses, sure, but everything else? Even a thirty-eight year old body like this? Maybe I should flaunt it before it all hits the floor. She steps in the shower, grabbing her trusty loofa, pouring Shear Twilight on it, letting the water wet her whole body, the heat feeling good on her back, the individual streams tempting her nipples. As her loofa runs through every crease between her soft skin, it feels as she's being watched. She cradles her tit in her arms, staring through the glass, seeing nothing. Taking her time, musing about the idea that there may be a long list of men waiting to ravish her body, paying close attention to her tit, slowly wiping each one, feeling their individual weights, as if she's unfamiliar, carrying on to her stomach, noticing the give in it, with the slightest pressure, lower, the garden. She never concerned about her little pooch, with what it protects, wishing Mandingo was here. She moves on to her butt, lifting each heavy cheek, cleaning the creases, sweeping their surface making note of their contour, spreading them, gliding the soap. She watches the soap run down her thighs, across dimples, they shake a little aa she changes position. Finally letting the water run it all away, a new life, a new chance. Turning off the shower, reaching to open the glass door, noticing two large handprints in the fog. "Oh yes, Mandingo, you fill me completely," she thrust it inside her. Bethany's legs are splayed out, her free hand travels across her body, while the other forcibly shoves her dildo in her soaked pussy. Through downplaying herself, the desire for a bit of rough masturbation before her modest nature tries to take hold, grew. "You; black; king," she gasp. Her moans and grunts echo with the sound of Mandingo slipping in and out of her, bouncing off the bare walls. She grabs and sucks on her own nipple, holding her tit in a firm grip. She nearly bites it, as she reaches climax, grunting, breathing through her teeth. "one more; why can't you fuck me doggy style, Mandingo? I knew I should a had you in the shower." Bethany runs the length of it on her clit several times, trying to jump start another, closing her legs around it, sliding the wet thing in and out of her thighs. Moaning softly to herself, she opens her legs, pushing it balls deep in her, thrusting hard enough, her body rocks with the strokes, working her arms. Her stomach shifts, tits rocking. "Fuck; fuck I'm sweating. But damn; feels so good." She starts fingering herself, pressing hard, getting closer and closer to the goal, twisting the dildo on the strokes. Sending herself in to another with loud yelps, grip loosened on Mandingo, her fingers slowly stop twitching on her clit. She lay there dazed a moment, trying to put Mandingo on her nightstand. A wave passes over her body, something moves her hair from her face, drifting down her cheek, another grazes her tit, moving down her side, stopping at her hip, moving over the top of her thigh. The other slides down her cleavage to her stomach, like some aftercare. Her eyes start to close, the feeling vanishes when she rolls over. Still feeling good about herself, refreshed from last night, waits for the cable installer, drinking coffee in an Asian styled silk robe, not tied that tight, showing a peek at her deep cleavage. Watching what broadcast stations her flat screen will pick up. A knock on the door. "Cable man," a voice called. "ten forty-three," she looks at her phone. Opening the door to a rather tall black man in a grey t-shirt, he gives her a quick once over. "Bethany Jackson?" Oh yes, hello," she could feel his eyes clawing at her chest. "My names Ray, welcome to the neighborhood," he steps in with a bag. "You live around here, too? I guess that would make it easier if I had problems." "Nah, I just seen the boxes, where would you want the modem and router set up, once we get that setup, I can get the cable together." She looks at him for a moment, picturing him naked, taking her slow in the bedroom. "Ms. Bethany...?" "Oh! Sorry, I uh; let's do it in the bedroom, put it in the bedroom," she blushed. Ray gives her a smirk, kneeling to his bag, pulling out cables and two boxes, glancing up at her. She leads him to the bedroom, pointing to a corner; "right here." He notices the large black dildo on the floor, looking at her with a raised eyebrow; "rough night?" "Fuck, I'm sorry; I thought I put that away," quickly bending over to grab it. She glances up to catch him staring right down her robe, she quickly opened her night stand, dropping Mandingo, slamming it shut. "Sorry about that." "It's no problem, it's your apartment; I'm just visiting. I've seen a few of those and a bit more," he laughs. "It was not supposed to be there, I swear," blushing again. "Ms. Bethany, I've had women offer me sex to try and get free cable or internet, they'd disappear and come back naked," he laughed, "I promise it's fine." "If that happened, I think I'd pay more," she covers her mouth "sorry, I; I'll just stay in the living room before something else stupid happens." Ray watches her hurry past him, her robe draped on her hips, ass jiggling as she leaves the room, "god damn," he mutters. Ray step in to the living room ten minutes later; "well that's all good to go, now the cable." "See; robe still on," she replies. "I'm surprised it isn't tied all the way to your armpits," Ray laughed. "I'll just leave you to it," she stands. "You're fine, I promise. Ms. Bethany, I'm a professional." "Beth is fine. I'm just so embarrassed." "You don't have anything to be embarrassed about." "It's just; I moved here from another city, and it's been so l, nope, not gonna stick my foot in my mouth," she sips her coffee. "Honestly Beth, and I mean no disrespect; you are attractive. I'm sure under that robe is nice. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I swear I usually keep my mouth shut. I don't want to get fired over sexual harassment." "No! I won't say anything, I don't want you to lose your job. It's my apartment, you said it. I don't want to come off like those women you were talking about." "I can tell, you looked like you were going to sit in your car, if you had to," he laughed. "I probably would have. You think I'm attractive?" "I do, you look good. I didn't get this job to hook up

Amorous Goods: The Flute & The Magic Pen

AMOROUS GOODS: THE FLUTE [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-flute] AFTER DINNER CONVERSATION PIECE. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-05.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. THE FLUTE Jeff had recently joined our small team of international shipbrokers. He was new in town and single. I knew he would soon sort out his social life, but he would be lacking some home comforts in the short term, so I invited him to our house for dinner one Friday after work. My wife, Hazel, is a wonderful woman and an excellent cook. After a superb dinner she offered to tidy up while Jeff and I went through to our lounge for a wee dram. I got out the Glenfarclas and poured us each a generous measure. "I see you have a flute of some sort on top of your mantelpiece" Jeff observed. "Do you play it at all?" "Not really," I replied. "I use it from time to time, but I don't actually play it. It's not really for playing in the normal sense of making music. To tell you the truth, it's a magical Japanese shakuhachi flute. I got it years ago from an old guy who ran a curiosity shop full of antiques and bric-a-brac. I think the shop was called Amorous Goods." Jeff grinned and settled back on the Chesterfield sofa where he was relaxing. "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind it?" he enquired. "There sure is," I replied. "Shakuhachi flutes are traditionally made from bamboo or cane, but this one is said to be made from the wood of one of the six ancient zelkova trees of old Roppongi. It's a district of Tokyo that's famous for its nightlife nowadays. Of those six old trees, three were cut down around a hundred years ago and the others were destroyed in the Second World War. The story goes that the six trees were invested with the spirits of six witches and the wood from those trees has magical powers." "And you believe that?" "I was skeptical at first, but the shop owner arranged a demonstration of the flute's magic. The old guy told me if I blew just one note on that flute, the next woman who came into the shop would give me a blow job. I had to pay a deposit of five hundred dollars then he let me use the flute." I paused and took a sip of the whisky, cherishing my memories. "From the look on your face, presumably it worked," said Jeff. "Less than a minute after I blew a note on the flute an attractive young woman came into the shop. She saw me holding the flute and without saying a word she dropped to her knees in front of me, unzipped my trousers and fished out my cock. As far as I'm concerned, any blow job is a good blow job, but I can honestly say that was one of the best blow jobs I have ever had. She licked and sucked me until I came like an express train. She swallowed it all, tucked me back in, zipped me up, thanked me profusely and left the shop." "So did you buy the flute?" he asked. "You bet I did." I said with a smile. "The five hundred dollar deposit was non-refundable on condition the old guy could prove the magic flute worked, but I still had to pay another five hundred bucks on top of that." "In other words, you got a blow job and a small wooden flute for a thousand bucks?" "Yes indeed and it's been well worth it." "You're kidding!" Jeff exclaimed skeptically. "I bet it's never worked since you tried it out in that shop." "Jeff, I can honestly say it's worked every single time since then," I said, "That's why it has a place of honor on our mantelpiece. I wouldn't say this to just anyone, but I can let you try it for yourself." "You want me to borrow your flute?" he asked. "No," I replied. "The flute stays here. You can have a shot at it right now, but you must agree not to breathe a word to anyone about it." "Okay," he said, standing up and taking the flute from its resting place on the mantelpiece. "It would be rude of me to turn down your invitation." Glancing at me almost suspiciously, as if he was expecting some sort of practical joke, he sat back down on the sofa and blew a squeaky note on the instrument. A few moments later Hazel came through the door from the hallway, looked at me enquiringly and then saw Jeff holding the flute. Without hesitation she went over to the sofa, got down on her knees in front of Jeff, unzipped his trousers and got his cock out. She leaned over his crotch and started to lick and suck his cock enthusiastically. He leaned backwards over the arm of the sofa in an effort to give her easier access, grinned happily, raised his eyebrows at me and mouthed the word "Wow!" I took the opportunity to recharge our whisky glasses while Hazel polished Jeff's knob, bringing him to a gasping finish. Afterwards she tucked his cock back in his trousers and zipped them up, got to her feet, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, thanked Jeff and smiled at me as she headed back to the kitchen. "Are you okay with that?" Jeff asked quietly. "No problem as far as I'm concerned," I replied. "Hazel absolutely loves giving blowjobs. Very occasionally a special guest gets to enjoy a happy ending after dinner. If Hazel likes them enough I let them toot the flute. It's just a good excuse for some adult fun." Jeff grinned from ear to ear. "Well, as far as I'm concerned that was truly a magical experience, but the real magic is not in the flute. It's in the art of the blowjob!" "Exactly," I replied. "The flute on the mantelpiece is my way of acknowledging my wife's special talent. No doubt she will join us soon enough for a drink or two before you leave. Just be aware though, like many magicians, Hazel prefers not to discuss her magic trick after a show." To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]; a collaborative storyline for Literotica AMOROUS GOODS: THE MAGIC PEN [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-magic-pen] ERRANT PENMANSHIP DISRUPTS A MARRIAGE. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-05.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Nikki Feingold peered over her menu, its calfskin folder soft and supple in her hands, the offerings transcribed in an elegant Garamond font. "Dessert?" Her dark eyebrows arched. Leonard Reminger leaned back, feeling the tightness of his belt against his waist. "I'm not sure Nikki, the temptation is huge, and we don't get to do this very often, but I am quite frankly stuffed. Filled to the gunwales. Popping at the seams." "In a good way," he added, seeing the hint of disappointment in her face. "Often? This is only our first time here. But yes," her expression recovering, "I know what you mean." Alo's atmosphere was exactly what Leonard had hoped it would be, one of the finest restaurants in Toronto. Expensive, far above their normal night out, candlelight not so low that you couldn't read the menu, but soft enough to set a mood. And quiet, a lovely quiet hum of the other's diners' voices that didn't intrude, it was possible to have a whispered conversation with your paramour and still hear each other. Paramour, Leonard rolled that word around in his head. Yes, that was precisely the right term. And on this, their fourth wedding anniversary, that characterization was still accurate, redolent, meaningful. Nikki's eyes went back to her menu. "Why don't we split something, maybe on the lighter side? The baked apple slices in cognac with clotted cream perhaps?" suggested Leonard. Nikki smiled back. Leonard had hit the perfect note. "Yes, that sounds wonderful." She was pleased he would meet her halfway, even though she knew she might end up with three-quarters of the dessert herself. One of Leonard's many appealing aspects was his willingness to compromise, even indulge. She gave a little shiver, she had been so lucky to have met him back at university, that first time that she saw him at Angela's party, so well dressed compared to the other students at the gathering, understated and not flashy. With those hazel eyes that seemed to stare into you, the shoulders squared, no academic question that came up that night to cause the slightest fluster, his answers thoughtful, thorough, in fact, she had noted even then, unlawyerly. That was it, he was the quietest, least rapacious of all the other law students she had met at university, most of them courtesy of her then roommate, Angela, a law student herself, who had introduced her to Leonard that fateful night. But now, of course, during the day those hazel eyes scanned corporate contracts, torts case briefs, and other impossibly mundane, although lucrative, documents. She was glad her own work involved teaching Renaissance architecture at the city's second university, York, and not in a corporate office. When they were done, Leonard beckoned their waiter. "If I may, I have a large favor to ask." He held the menu in his hands, Nikki couldn't help looking at his long elegant fingers, ones capable of so many duties, intimate or purely functional. The young waiter, perhaps early twenties, bowed his head respectfully, and Nikki noted for the hundredth time how easily Leonard wielded his charm, all the more effectively for being completely authentic. "Tonight is our wedding anniversary. The dinner was outstanding, many thanks. Might we be able to take tonight's menu home? I'd be pleased to reimburse you for your consideration. But it would be most special to us." He gazed at Nikki, who smiled shyly. The waiter bowed. "Please allow me to check, I will be right back." "Leonard, such a sweet thought!" Nikki beamed. "It never would have occurred to me to ask. October fourth, four years ago! How symmetrical, how Jungian!" The waiter returned with the bill. "Please accept the menu with our compliments and wishes for many more years of marriage. We are honored you chose us for your destination tonight." "Shall we walk home?" asked Leonard, when they had made their way to the street. "I know we were going to Lyft it, but it's probably only a thirty or forty minute stroll. And I'd love to settle the food a little, before sleep." Nikki smiled up at him. "Yes, of course. I'd love to have you settled a bit, for later," giving Leonard a slightly wanton look. "We cannot have an anniversary without some other celebrating." Her taffy colored hair was done up in a chignon, and Leonard thought her pale rose-colored evening dress, tight about her waist, could have charmed the venom out of a cobra. Her soft inviting neck, uncovered by her hair, could still produce a frisson of excitement that ran up and down his spine, even now, six years after first meeting her. That the dimple on her left cheek appeared so easily when she smiled was a distinct bonus. "Excellent, then." They chose a slightly more roundabout route than they might have picked otherwise, the October evening air possessed of that last bit of summer warmth before Toronto's often abrupt shift to much colder weather. On a leafy street paralleling one of the main streets of the city, residential with businesses only at the corners, Nikki spotted an unusual dwelling. "Len, look at that! What a stately place, in the middle of the block." This was an older part of town, many of the buildings of Victorian era with expansive and well-tended yards, nothing built later than perhaps 1920. But the object of Nikki's attention would have stood out regardless. Unlike the other houses on the block, all two stories in height, with lawns sloping down to the street and manicured shrubbery, this place loomed. Dark gray, an almost black exterior, with a slate mansard roof, it sat forbiddingly in a tangle of trees, which shaded every corner. A spiked fence surrounded the front section, and as they crossed the street and approached, Leonard pointed out a sign near the granite steps up to it from the street. "Most Curious Goods," he red. "Hours 12-8 except Sundays." What an odd formulation thought Nikki, wrinkling her nose. She looked in the windows, struck by the intriguing light that came from within. "Len, let's take a look." Indeed the front door was cast wide, the light spilling from the threshold inviting one in from the street. "Good evening," intoned a voice as they passed through the door into a foyer. Leonard looked about, startled, and was greeted by the slightest bow from a tall man in a dark suit. "Please have a look around. We are open until the top of the hour." The man's face was guileless and open, in that middle-of-the-country way that contrasted with bustling Montreal or cosmopolitan Vancouver. His movements were careful but informal. "Welcome to Most Curious Goods, I'm Dylan," he said by way of introduction, "please let me know if you have any questions." Leonard nodded and they passed from room to room, each one seemingly arranged as a theme. The first, to their right as they entered, could have been the drawing room from an English townhouse in the early part of the Twentieth century. The bricked mantle shelf held knickknacks of every description, Montgomery mugs, silver candlesticks, wooden birds and small animals, a taxidermy owl, sitting proudly at one edge. Nikki admired a small secretary's desk, dark wood with fine inlay, little cubby holes for envelopes, documents. Another room seemed to be Oriental, in the old British sense of the East, with carvings of snakes, intricate carpets, exotic animal heads attached to the wall, fangs and antlers on display. They passed from room to room, finding one towards the back of the house of remarkable interest. Leonard examined a balance scale, perhaps a foot wide, with small brass weights on each balance plate. They were metric units, and the label attached to the piece indicated it was early nineteenth century, from Nuremberg. "Look at his!" Nikki pointed to a narrow grandfather's clock, the hands of polished brass, its woodwork striking in both intricacy and color. Leonard was drawn to a large table, the sort found in old libraries, with a smooth dark wooden surface. A place was set for a writer to work, a typewriter, blotter, and a fountain pen of exotic polished wood. Leonard held the pen in his hand, its weight pleasing, with a substantial easy-to-grasp thickness to it. Removing the top revealed an elegant golden nib, and the name of the manufacturer, Faustographia, Leipzig, engraved in a small, tidy script. "Mid-nineteenth century," said the male voice that had greeted them on entering. Leonard started, so engrossed with the pen he had been unaware Dylan had followed them into the room. "We are unsure of its original provenance, but it was last owned by the Earl of Northumberland. Would you like to try it out?" Leonard was tempted but shook his head. "We're just looking at the moment, we noticed your place quite by accident while passing." Leonard was not sure why he declined the offer, as the urge to write with the pen, while he held it in his hand, had been strong. "But we still would like to poke around a few minutes more, before home beckons." Dylan inclined his head. "Of course." They admired some paintings, a fin de si�cle lamp, and reluctantly left for home. Nikki's eyes were shining. "What a striking shop! I would never have expected to find it there." Their last steps up to their door were weary, welcome. Leonard arranged the menu on the corner table in their dining room that held their silver. He could still conjure up the taste of the apple-cognac slices. "Thanks for a wonderful meal, Leonard, that was sweet of you." Nikki sidled up alongside him. "My thanks to you. I could not possibly be as happy in my life without you at my side." Their kiss was short, anticipatory. After final bathroom ablutions, Leonard found Nikki spread out in bed, covers tucked to the side. Her legs were wide, she had taken the time to array her hair in a fan-shape on the pillows. Early on Leonard had said how ravishing she looked that way, her long hair loose, unruly and wanton. Leonard smiled. "Just the way you like it," Nikki whispered. "Hurry get your clothes off and bring me your erection." She wiggled her hips. Leonard complied, and knelt to her side. His cock had grown half stiff in anticipation while he removed shirt, trousers and drawers, and after dangling his cock for a few minutes in Nikki's soft limpid mouth, he was fully hard. He knelt at her notch, already damp, and fingered and licked her arousal to an almost unsustainable condition. He had learned early on this was always the best way to proceed before entering her. Their copulation was swift, explosive, and exhausting. Leonard lay on top of her, thinking there was no contentment greater than when he could feel his cock softening inside his Nikki. They kissed, and she rubbed his back and bum, as he felt the fluids surrounding his cock, within her, warm and comforting. While the next day meant work for both of them, Nikki arranged to leave her office early after lunch and was back at Most Curious Goods the next afternoon. "We were in yesterday," she explained breathlessly to Dylan, "my husband and I. I've come for the pen we admired." "Yes, I remember." Nikki could not quite decipher the clerk's expression, perhaps amused, maybe conspiratorial, but more likely just pleased at a potentially successful transaction. "You must take this ink as well," insisted Dylan. "Comes along with the pen." He held a silver polished ink bottle with a handsome cap. "You know of course the nib is gold alloy, yet must only have non-acidic ink. This is a special formulation." Dylan demonstrated the proper way to fill the pen, spoke in general terms of its care and use. "Thank you," she said, as she handed over her bank card. Although none of the items in the shop had indication of monetary value, she had known the actual price of the pen would be dear, and she had winced at the final amount. But worth it, she couldn't help thinking. Dylan bowed as she left. "May your enjoyment be complete." Su