Hot Voodoo Ch. 01


Hello. My name is Larry and I am a pussyholic.

I wasn’t always like this. Most of my life I was an upright guy with a healthy interest in pussy, nothing more. I mean, it’s a place to put your dick and not your face, right? You piss in a toilet, but you don’t stick your head in. Simple. At least, I thought it was simple, until I met Jasmine.

I had seen her around the place I work for a couple of years. Not much chance to talk, since she was up in the main office and I was down on the loading dock. Nah, those two worlds don’t collide very often. But I had noticed her coming in and out of the building, sometimes with her gaggle of girlfriends heading off to lunch. No brown bagging for that crew. I picked her right out of the pack. Hard to miss those nice, big tits – real movers and shakers. I even gave them a shout out a couple of times, but she just walked on bye-bye.

It was the company picnic that finally brought us together. Like one big family, as the bosses always say. The office boys had squared off against the loading dock guys in a “friendly” game of softball. While waiting for my next at bat, I drifted over to the picnic area to get some liquid refreshment.

There was Jasmine, standing next to the cooler and looking pretty refreshing herself in a flowery skirt and a hot pink top that simply glowed against her dark skin. She wasn’t tall or stunningly beautiful, but she had something that called to me come to me. A little overweight? Maybe, but she knew how to use it. Her body never seemed to stop moving. Like the ocean, the waves just kept rolling. And her voice with that Caribbean accent (I took a cruise down there once, so I know) sailed over those waves loud and clear. Man, I wanted a piece of that island girl.

“Hey Jaz!” I shouted, using the nickname I’d heard her girlfriends call her. “Beer me!”

Jasmine’s eye’s met mine for an exciting second. A spark? Hard to tell as her gaze broke contact and began to look me up and down. Go ahead honey, check it out. Plenty of muscle and not a lotta fat. My one job perk.

I guess I passed inspection, cause she reached into the cooler, picked up a Michelob and then whipped the sucker right at my head. Shit, that bitch had an arm. I got my hand up in time to make the catch, but the slippery can went right through my fingers and whacked me square on the chin. I went down, out as cold as the can lying next to me.

Must have woken up quickly, and found myself staring at the sandaled feet of Jasmine. She has pretty toes, I thought. Why I thought that I don’t know, because honestly, that’s not a part of the female anatomy that I usually spend a lot of time thinking about. But I was recovering rapidly from the shock and my next glance snuck right up her skirt. It was dark, but I thought for a second, was she . . .? Shaking my head, I tried to refocus for a better view. Too late, she was already kneeling beside me.

“You poor boy,” she said. “Are you OK? Can you stand? Do you need assistance?”

I just stared up into those big dark eyes, set in that soft round face, as I gingerly worked my jaw. Nothing broken. Tried to think of something to say, but all I could think about was how short her kinky black hair was bornova escort cropped. For some reason, I always found that look kinda sexy. Since I couldn’t say that, I just sat up and didn’t say nothing, still working my jaw.

At that point, my buddy Lou appeared and told me I was up next.

“Can’t do it.” I mumbled. “Concussed.”

Lou saw how it was, smiled and ran back to the field. They didn’t need me to beat those office wussies anyway.

Jasmine helped me to my feet and brought me over to a nearby bench. “Maybe you shouldn’t play,” she observed. “You’re not very good at catch.” Then she laughed and for some reason I didn’t mind a bit.

We spent the next hour just talking. Well, she did most of that. But that was OK, because I could not get enough of her voice. I gazed at her lipsticked lips, hanging on her every word and only talking enough to keep her talking. Maybe I was concussed. I was definitely out of it enough so that I could hardly follow what she said, except at the very end, when she invited me to her house for dinner the next evening. She had to make it up to me. How could I refuse?

Since the next day was Sunday, I had time to get my act together. Put on a nice shirt, touch of cologne, even got some flowers. Women love that shit. And sure, she owed me one, but it didn’t hurt to get her in the mood to pay me off right.

Jasmine greeted me at the door in a light summer dress, low cut with a heavy gold necklace that gave me a good excuse to stare at her boobs. Putting a finger under my chin, she raised my angle of vision. “So you survived the night. And aside from a little bruise, it looks like your jaw is still intact. This is good, because I plan to put it to work.” In response to my puzzled look, she added, “With dinner of course. Come in. I think my recipe got done a little early, my oven tends to run a little hot you know, so we can dine immediately.”

Leading me to the table, she sat me down and then dashed out to the kitchen. A few seconds later she brought out a plate that had on it a single wedge of pie. Not very impressive, but maybe this was just the appetizer.

“Et voilà! Let me present my voodoo quiche!” she beamed. “The island my family comes from was ruled for many years by the French. They were bastards, but they could cook. My grand-mère worked in the kitchen for a French family and became skilled at combining their cuisine with her own traditional recipes. She made this quiche especially for the master of the house and after one bite he was hooked. Try it!”

My first thought was, real men don’t eat quiche. Am I right? And this one had a weird aroma. It smelled good but also slightly rotten. Must have had some stinky French cheese in it. But I was also a guest, and more than a little horny, and sometimes a man’s gotta do if a man’s gonna screw. So I took a bite.

Not bad. A little slimy going down, and that smell was not going to get out of my nose anytime soon, but not bad. I took another. Pretty good actually. So I just plowed right in. Manners never got in the way of my appetite. When I looked up, I noticed that Jasmine hadn’t even touched hers. She was just watching me eat with bostanlı escort a smile that made me think I was on the outside of an in joke.

I was about to compliment her on her home cooking when I felt something stuck between my teeth. Picking it out, I saw it was a hair, a long curly hair. That was weird. It certainly didn’t come off of her nappy head. Was there a cat running around her kitchen?

“Now where did that come from?” asked Jasmine. “Anyway, I see it didn’t stop you from enjoying your meal.”

“It was great,” I replied. “Uh, is there more?” Brilliant conversation, I know. But I was hungry.

“Of course there’s more. Let’s have the second course in the bedroom.” And with that she stood up and walked away from the table, her bouncy rear end daring me to follow. Now there’s a gal who knows how to treat a guest. I was all in.

Jasmine wasted no time in getting her dress off. There was lots to love about that body. Big curves that just screamed come and drive me. I stepped up to take the wheel. Reaching my arms around her for a kiss, I also fumbled with the hooks of her brassiere. Release the funbags!

They spilled out into my eager hands and I could feel her nipples swell up to say hello as we fell onto her bed. I wouldn’t have minded settling into kissing her pillowy lips for a bit longer, but this bitch was clearly getting hot. The smell of her sex was making me horny too.

Rolling off her, I knelt beside the bed and pulled down her panties. Before I could jump back on top of her, she put her hand on top of my head and spread her legs wide. “Time for your second course, cherie.”

Shit, it was going to be real hair pie this time. The sight of her tangled bush was not a big turn on for me. To be honest, it looked like she had a hairy tarantula nestled between her thighs, a beast that was best squashed and forgotten. But hey, I was a guest and did not want to be rude. I decided to give her a few courtesy licks and then get back to the main course.

Then the weirdness kicked in. As I started rubbing my tongue against her pussy, my own lips began to tingle. Moving up and down, painting the line, the tingling turned into something more. She was getting wet and my lips were getting wetter too, and excited. It was like I was French kissing me!

When I hit the clit, my tongue joined the fun as my whole mouth turned into one big orgy. Each little flick sent a burst of pleasure deep into both of us. It startled me at first, but I had to try it again. And again and again. Can a tongue have an orgasm? Whatever was happening, it had to keep happening. I couldn’t pull away. I was hooked.

She started moaning and so did I, just like a girl. But it was so good. Somehow my lips had stretched themselves into an extended vertical pucker as they tried to cover her entire vagina. The more my lips touched hers, the more they tingled and burned. In the meantime, my tongue stayed at the top of my upper lip, planted firmly on her clit, licking and flicking and driving us both crazy with lust.

I couldn’t tell which of us was wetter as our juices flowed together. All I knew was that my mouth was sucking in orgasmic waves buca escort rolling in from somewhere deep between her legs and crashing on the beach of what used to be my brain. All thoughts were washed away, as my brain dissolved into my body and my whole being started screaming, yes yes yes make me come make me coooome!!

Grabbing her ass, I pushed my face in harder. Once was not enough. There was more juice in there and I wanted to suck out every drop. As I continued to kneel before her, her thighs locked around my head and shut out the rest of the world. I couldn’t even hear her gasping and moaning, but I didn’t need to, because her gasps and moans were mine as well. My mouth pussy exploded again and still held on for dear life.

The third climax hit like a bomb that literally blew me away. Knocked to the floor, my head lolling from side to side, uncertain if I was laughing or crying.

Jasmine’s bright, smiling face appeared over the edge of the bed above me. “Did you like it, cherie?”

“So good,” I gasped, “so good.” Jasmine’s glance made me aware of a wetness between my legs. Had I come? That used to be all that I cared about, but now I could barely remember. Not sure I had come so much as oozed. However it happened, it was sure a sticky mess.

I sat up now and my eyes begged for a kiss. No, I didn’t want to kiss her. I wanted her to kiss me. What I just went through had torn me apart and I needed her to hold me and stroke me and put me back together. She did. She gave me a long, deep kiss that told me she had me and everything was fine. Climbing beside her in bed, we kissed some more and I let my hands stroke her soft skin and thank my hostess for all she had given me.

Not sure how much time passed, but eventually my mouth recovered from its incredible journey and the inevitable question popped out: “But how?”

“I told you it was voodoo pie, darling. There was magic in it, sympathetic sex magic. You found the hair, you should have been warned. Ah, but you were hungry, no? You eat without thinking, just like a man. And now that you have eaten, your mouth is bound to my pussy, forever and always.”

Now that I was starting to get hold of myself, this all sounded like a load of BS. “You’re kidding me, right? I mean, I might have got a little carried away, and it was great, don’t get me wrong. But magic? No way. Look, my mouth feels normal now. There’s no bond, not now or forever.”

“Of course you feel normal now, dear. As I said, our bond was created by sympathetic sex magic. When my pussy heats up, so does your mouth. Care to try it again?”

I just stared at her. This could not be happening.

“Don’t be shy. Admit it. Admit that this was the best sex you ever had.”

She was right. It was the best. And the best part was that the coming just kept coming. How do these bitches stand it? But then, what did that make me? Was I going to be a limp dick oozer for the rest of my life, lip-locked to this cunt’s cunt? Then I remembered how good, how amazingly good it was. I closed my eyes and trembled.

Jasmine could see I was torn, and seemed to be enjoying my inner struggle. “Look honey, you don’t have to decide now. You are invited back next week, same time, same meal. If you stand me up. I’ll know it’s off and our special bond will fade away. Nothing really lasts forever, you know, not unless you want it to. But also know this, the more times we do it the way we just did it, the stronger our bond becomes. You decide lover . . . while you still can.”

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