I sincerely thank everyone who left a comment and especially those who asked for a sequel. In my experience trying to stretch a story out usually doesn’t work (especially when I’ve run out of ideas!), but I had thought about writing one more part so here it is. Sometimes I find the words flow out of my brain like water down a drain. That’s how it was with “The Geezer Makes Out” and “Jakob and Jessie-The Improbable Couple.” Other times getting the words out is like squeezing the last bit of toothpaste from the tube—a lot of work. This story was in the former category. I had no plan for it but when it was done it all fit together. I hope you enjoy the ending.
MP put the locket back over her head, swearing once again to never remove it. She took my hand and led me upstairs. Had anyone ever questioned my mother’s magical powers they would have been silenced by seeing my room. We had a big house—a colonial with five bedrooms and five and a half baths. I had the biggest after the master suite—12 by 12 with a small walk-in closet and private bath. Now the room was 12 by 20. Mom had removed the wall, merged the two carpets and changed the color, fixed the walls and ceiling, and painted the room. Gone were my boyish decorations, replaced by accents more suitable for a young couple which, of course, we were. The walls were a light creamy color, the carpet a light mauve. In the middle of the long wall was a queen sized bed flanked by a dresser for MP and an armoire for me. On the opposite wall between windows that had been moved apart since I was last there were identical desks, each with its own computer networked to a color laser printer and a large flat screen TV. Most important was the second closet because I knew MP had a ton of clothes. Also, my bathroom had a stall shower; the other had a tub which I was sure we’d use together sometime in the future.
The next day after her father had gone to work MP and I walked to her house to pick up whatever clothing we could carry. Her mother came to the door, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mary Patricia, your father took all your clothes to Goodwill the day you left. There’s nothing here. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you here.” MP hugged her mother, telling her not to worry. We’d keep in touch with her and, after all, we were only two doors away. When she was done I also hugged and kissed her. “That’s for raising the finest person I’ve ever known—the most loving, caring, most unselfish person in the world. I promise I will love her forever.”
When we arrived home MP told my mother, “It’s not a big deal. I can get underwear and almost everything else I need at Wal-Mart.”
Scowling, Mom replied, “No daughter of mine is going to buy her underwear or anything else at Wal-Mart! Wait here, Jeremy.” She left, walking up the stairs in a hurry. She returned a moment later handing me more than $3,000. “You’re too young to use a credit card so take the cash. Take MP to Victoria’s Secret first, then to some of the other boutiques in town. If you run out of money I’ll get you more. MP, buy what you want, don’t skimp on account of the cost.” She shooed us out the door.
I absolutely hate shopping and sitting in Victoria’s Secret among all the bras and panties was embarrassing, but MP made it all worthwhile when she told me she’d give me a special show when we got home. All told we spent five agonizing hours buying her new clothes and shoes. Why girls need so many shoes was a mystery to me. We put all of it into her closet except for one box which she refused to show me. “Later,” she said kissing me gently on the cheek.
After dinner we retired to our room. I was still pretty well whipped from my ordeal of the past few weeks. I may be a wizard, but I’m also human—I need sleep like anyone else. I led MP to the bathroom, planning on showering together, but she shook her head “no.” “Not tonight, I have something special for you and I want it to be a surprise.” She kissed me—just a little peck—and left. I showered and climbed into bed naked, turning the lights out. A few minutes later MP emerged from the other bath. She was wearing the sheerest baby doll I’d ever seen. It was a color that exactly matched her flaming red hair. With the light behind her I could see the silhouette of her perfect body—her slender legs, her curvy hips, the swell of her breasts, and the alluring spread between her legs. It was an incredibly erotic sight. If this was her surprise it was sensational. I forgot immediately how tired I was. I became erect in a millisecond. I started drooling in anticipation of making love with this delightful creature.
“You like?” MP whispered, climbing onto the bed next to me. I could barely respond, but somehow I managed to groan, “Oh, yes, I love it…and I love you.” MP pushed me down. “You’re going to love this even more,” as she took me into her hot mouth. “Mmmm, I love how you taste. You lie back and let me do all the work.” She went back to work on my cock and, if she wasn’t careful, I was going to cum in about twenty seconds. MP must have sensed my excitement because she pulled back after licking all around my helmet. She kissed and licked my ball sack then moved up to lay one hell of a kiss on my lips. “I hope you like this because we’re going to do it several times every day. I told you I was going to wear you out.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe I’ll wear you out, so there!”
“Ha! That’ll never happen. I’ll never tire of you. Now that I have you back I’m never letting you go. I’m going to show you how much I love you every single day.” She kissed me again, her tongue teasing mine, and sucking my lip between her teeth. Again, she gave me a peck on the cheek and lowered herself down my body. Kneeling next to me she licked all around my granite cock before rising up to straddle me. I thought she was lowering her pussy to me but—no! Was I surprised when I felt the tightness of her ass. “That’s why we didn’t shower together, Jeremy. I wanted to get myself ready for you. We’ve only done this a couple of times and I still remember how wonderful it was. Now we’re going to do it all the time.” Pausing a second, she continued, “We are going to do it all the time, aren’t we?”
“Oh, yes, MP…we… certainly… are,” I grunted, reveling in what her ass was doing to me. The pressure was incredible and when MP began moving up and down the sensations spread throughout my body. I was tingling from head to toe. MP increased her pace, leaning forward and placing my hands on her breasts. I pinched those delicious nipples and rolled them over my fingers. “Do my clit, Jeremy. I just need a little help.” I moved my right hand down between our bodies. Her button was hard and hot and her cunt was running like a river. A few gentle rubs threw her over the top. She shook over and over for almost a minute in her ecstasy. I was ready, too. I rammed my cock deep into her bowel as I lifted her more than a foot off the bed. I held her there as I came—jetting into her repeatedly until I was too exhausted to even move.
MP fell on top of me. I caressed her head, running my fingers through her silky hair. “If you do that every day you’ll probably kill me in a month,” I told her. Then you’ll be a wealthy widow.”
“I guess that means we’re getting married. Is that a proposal?”
Holding her head and looking straight into her eyes, I told her, “No, MP--this is a proposal--will you marry me?”
“Was there ever a question?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
“Just so there’s no doubt,” she whispered, “Yes…yes…yes!” She rose and I tried to pull her back. She pushed away saying, “I need to clean you up for the morning. You do want me tomorrow morning, don’t you?” All I had to do was smile. She was back in a moment with a wash cloth and soap. She cleaned me carefully then tested with her tongue. She flashed the OK sign before climbing in with me. When she draped her leg over mine I could feel the wetness of her pussy. It was sublimely comforting as we drifted to sleep. I knew we’d be stuck together by morning.
Before falling asleep there was something I had to ask her. “MP, are you sure you want to move in? Aren’t you going to miss your mom and dad?”
“Jeremy, you know how much I love my mother. She’s the best, but my dad treats me like I’m six instead of sixteen. You should have seen the fit he threw when I was over here after Mandy died. I won’t miss that one bit.”
“OK,” I replied, “I just wanted to be sure. I wouldn’t want to come between you and your family.
“Don’t worry about that—you ARE my family now.” She hugged me, laid her head on my chest, and fell asleep. I followed soon after.
I woke in the early morning; my clock said 4:30. MP was tracing circles on my chest. “Jeremy,” she said in the faintest whisper, “are you awake?”
“Yes, MP, I guess I’m not used to sleeping like this, but I’m looking forward to getting used to it. What’s the matter? Why are you awake?”
“I was just thinking—Jeremy…why did you make my boobs grow?”
Patiently, I explained, “Mostly because I hated the way those girls were teasing you. You were my best friend other than Ted and Josh. I loved you even then.”
“Well, I’m glad you made them grow. If you hadn’t you wouldn’t have come over to my house to feel and suck them, and I wouldn’t have jerked you off or given you a blowjob, and then you wouldn’t have made me cum, and we wouldn’t have fucked or become a couple. So, I guess making them grow was a good decision.”
“Huh? MP, how long have you been thinking about this?”
“A long time, Jeremy, a very long time.” She stopped tracing circles and moved her hand down to my cock. I was already hard. “Oh, Jeremy,” she cooed, “I think you’re ready for me again.”
I grabbed her suddenly and rolled her over. She was pinned beneath me, my legs between hers. “You think I’m ready for you? I know I am!” I kissed her hard as I pinched her nipple. She groaned into my mouth. She reached between us to rub my cock into her slit. She was already wet and oozing pussy juice. She pulled me into her as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I pushed hard, forcing myself against her cervix. “OH, YES, JEREMY, FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER!” We moved into each other faster and harder. We were working hard for each other; sweat pooled between MP’s tits. Our moans and grunts were coming faster and faster. “OH, YES! YESSS! YESSSSS!” MP was screaming as her orgasm took over her body, shaking and shuddering beneath me. I was pumping her madly until, “UNNNGGGHHH!” My cum poured into MP until, at last, I fell in a heap onto her. I moved her leg, rolled over, kissed her, and held her tight as we, once again, fell asleep.
We woke around eight, showered together, and walked into the kitchen in our robes. Mom was there, bags under her eyes. “Don’t you two ever sleep?” she asked.
“Sorry, Mom,” I replied. “I guess we got a little carried away.”
“Oh, don’t apologize, Jeremy. When your father heard you he got so hot he gave me the best fucking I’ve had in months.” MP and I laughed.
“Mom, I asked MP to marry me. She said ’yes.’ That’s why we were celebrating.”
“I assumed that was a fait accompli. But it nice to know it’s official. What will your parents say, MP?”
“My mom will be thrilled. I don’t care what my dad thinks.” We ate breakfast as Mom and MP talked about their plans for the future. They got along much better than I could have dreamed. Mom taught MP some of the simpler spells, mostly things to do with housework, cooking, and the like. She also taught her some defense spells—just in case. They made great companions for each other, too.
We were home about a week when MP told me there was something we had to do. I took her to a florist where she bought a dozen white roses and a heavy ceramic vase. Then we went to the one place I dreaded—the cemetery. MP placed the flowers on Mandy’s grave. I couldn’t help myself—I started crying again. When MP took my hand I noticed she was crying as hard as I was. We went to visit Mandy every week and we cried every time. When her headstone was laid we planted flowers and marveled at how they bloomed even in the cold of winter.
We decided to marry as soon as we could for two reasons. The first was to allow MP to share in my magical powers. As my wife she could tap into my abilities to supplement hers. The second was because her father was acting like an ass. First, he tried to snatch MP as we were coming out of the supermarket. You already know how far that got. I was just about to freeze him when MP held her hand up telling me to stop. I could see her reciting a spell she got from Mom. She held her thumb and forefinger apart and slowly moved them together. “Don’t let them touch, MP, unless you want to kill him.” This spell was squeezing his balls and it wasn’t long before he was on the pavement rolling around in agony.
“Daddy,” MP began, “I don’t want anything to do with you any more. You’re the one who threw me out, remember? You’re the one who threw away all my clothes. If you ever try anything like this again I’ll really hurt you.” This was the only time I had ever seen MP angry—she was magnificent! She joined me in the car. When we drove away her father was still lying on the pavement.
About a week later he called the police in the middle of the night accusing me of kidnapping MP. It took us an hour to explain to the cops, with MP telling them repeatedly that there was no way she was ever going home. The next day my dad’s attorney prepared papers for family court declaring MP to be an emancipated minor. We also obtained a restraining order, keeping him at least 100 feet away from his daughter.
In mid-August we visited my grandfather. Mom teleported us and Grandpa would send us back. I wouldn’t be able to do this until I became a warlock at twenty-one. Grandpa greeted us warmly in his home just outside St. Augustine, Florida. After hugging me he turned to MP. “And you are obviously Mary Patricia. I’d recognize you anywhere.” Seeing our confusion he had us follow him into his study. He pulled a thick leather-bound volume from a shelf. It was old, the leather cracked in several places. He had a page bookmarked. When he opened it he showed us a photo. Other than the clothes I would have sworn it was MP’s twin. It was her great, great, great grandmother—Mary Patricia O’Brien. He told us what he knew about her: “She lived in a poor village owned by an English lord near Galway. He was a hard man who loved the ladies, especially young pretty ones like Mary Patricia O’Brien—yes, the same name as you. He forced her to sleep with him when she was only fourteen by threatening her family, so her powers were doomed on her sixteenth birthday. Of course, she became pregnant and, unfortunately, died in childbirth. That’s why none of her descendents knew she was a witch. Remember, too, that in those days witches were burned so she couldn’t do much in her defense without exposing herself. It was a bad situation all around. Now, Mary Patricia, I know you made a promise to my grandson. Feel free to honor your promise while you are here; it’s important that you do. And, you’ll make me feel young again, too.”
That night MP climbed into bed spooning behind me. “Jeremy,” she whispered alluringly as she rubbed her hard nipples up and down my back. “Jeremy,” she continued, “I don’t want to disappoint Grandpa. I know he wants us to fuck and enjoy each other. Besides—I’m really horny tonight.”
“MP,” I said as I rolled over, “you’re horny every night.”
“Yeah, and every morning and every afternoon, too; I can’t help myself—I love you.” She leaned up and planted a big wet kiss on my lips. Her tongue teased my lips; her finger teased my nipple. “Damn, MP, you know all my buttons, don’t you?”
“Of course, Jeremy, that’s my job. Now, are we going to talk all night or fuck?”
“Hmmm,” I whispered back, “tough choice.” MP gave me a playful elbow to the ribs as I pulled her on top of me. She rubbed her hot slit up and down my cock, riding me to hardness. She rose up and, looking me in the eyes, pulled me into her. I slid into her heavenly cunt slowly, enjoying how her muscles were rippling up and down my cock. “Damn, MP, how do you come up with all these things to do to me?
“Didn’t I just tell you? It’s my job to take care of you.” She began a slow rocking motion, bending me within her muscular canal—creating friction that would ultimately help us both. I reached up to massage her fantastic firm breasts and leaned forward for a long kiss. When we broke it MP was really hot, “GIVE IT TO ME JEREMY! YOU KNOW I LOVE IT ROUGH. RAM IT INTO ME!” I responded by forcing my big cock deep into her, bottoming out on every thrust. I knew I was getting close so I found her clit, teasing it with the edge of my fingernail. MP gave a tremendous shudder, shouting at the top of her lungs, “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH, JEREMY!” She collapsed onto my chest just as I shot river after river of hot cum into her womb. I kissed her gently, rubbed her back, and put my arms around her. “Good night, darling. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” One more kiss and we were ready for sleep.
We had a great visit with Grandpa and just before we were to leave he asked MP to stand before him. He put his hand on her forehead. “Mary Patricia, I’m imbuing you with some of my powers. I have more than I can possibly use and I can see you’ll use them wisely. My grandson has made an excellent choice.”
Turning to me he continued, ”You forgot something, didn’t you, Jeremy? Mary Patricia is four generations removed from her full-witch ancestor so she didn’t have any powers other than being able to intercept partial telepathic messages. But you have been depositing your seed in her several times a day for some time and every time you do she is picking up a tiny amount of your power. However, that won’t last and, if I hadn’t given her some of mine, she would not be able to share yours when you marry. She would have nothing to build upon. Tsk, tsk, Jeremy, you should have known better.” I felt stupid, but Grandpa smiled, hugged us both and said “good-bye.” In a twinkling we were back home.
Life calmed down considerably and after all the tumultuous times we’d had the peace was welcome. We returned to school for eleventh grade. MP showed her legal papers to the principal, informing him that under no circumstances was any information about her to be given to her father. Dad’s attorney sent a follow-up letter to reinforce the family court order. The following summer we wed shortly after MP turned seventeen.
MP was raised in an Irish Catholic family so a church wedding was important to her. It was a small ceremony—Ted and Josh were ushers; Dad walked MP down the aisle. Her mother was an honored guest as was Grandpa. Her father wasn’t invited and we were relieved when he didn’t show up. Had he come he was going to have to deal with my mother’s wrath—not something I’d like to describe here. We lived near Greenwich, Connecticut so after the ceremony Mom and Dad treated all of us to dinner at Manero’s, a fabulous and famous steak house originally owned by pro golfer Tony Manero who had won the 1936 US Open. In addition to wonderful steaks Manero’s is reputed to have the best garlic bread ever. They claim that the best defense against their garlic bread is to have some yourself. Grandpa passed the basket to me. “Thanks, Grandpa, but I think I’ll pass.”
The entire group laughed wildly when MP said, “Um…me, too.” That was one of the few times I ever saw MP turn red with embarrassment. Everyone there knew we had been making love for years so I never did figure out what the big deal was. We flew to Bermuda for a honeymoon courtesy of Grandpa. A warlock buddy of his was the manager of the beautiful oceanfront hotel. He took great care of us. We swam and sunned, ate wonderful food, and made beautiful love over and over and over. Our wedding night MP came out of the bathroom wearing a sexy white teddy. She slinked rather than walked until she was halfway across the room. Then she dropped to the floor and slowly crawled. It was the sexiest, hottest thing I’d ever seen. I jumped from the bed, pulling her into my arms and the deepest kiss we had ever experienced. I knew absolutely nothing about lingerie so I struggled for several minutes while we kissed trying to get her out of it. Eventually, MP began giggling into my mouth. “Need help, amateur?” I groaned at her humor, but nodded. She unzipped in a second—now, why couldn’t I figure that out?
We stood together, totally naked. I opened my mouth to speak, but MP put her finger to my lips, “No talking; fuck me.” I lifted her by her thighs and gently lowered her onto my cock. MP smiled, “Now that’s what I needed.” She locked her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, her lips pressed against mine. I drove into her, forcing her hips up and away from mine until I heard her groan—then I slowed down. MP pulled away; her eyes asked what the fuck I was doing. I knew she was desperate to cum.
“Beg me,” I whispered.
She held her thumb and forefinger, as she did with her father. “Ha, ha, that won’t work against a wizard. Go ahead, beg.” I said as I resumed sliding in and out of her pussy.
Her eyes went wide. “If you love me, you’ll make me cum,” she pouted.
“Close enough,” I told her with a smile as I, once again, rammed my cock home, battering her cervix over and over while rubbing her G-spot with the entire length of my cock.
“OH, FUCK, JEREMY, YOU’RE DOING IT. MAKE ME CUM. MAKE ME… ARRRRGGGGGH.” She sagged against me. “I do love you, Jeremy.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Mason. I’m really fond of you, too.” She grabbed my hair and shook me as we laughed hysterically.
“Put me down and I’ll take care of you.” She did, finishing me with her mouth, swallowing everything I could give her. We fell together onto the bed. We held each other for a long time.
We stood together in the warm clear water our last day on the island when MP fished her hand up my trunks, grabbing my cock in the process. “MP! Everyone will see. “
“Yeah? So? Wait until I begin jerking you off, then they’ll have something to look at.”
“MP,” I whispered so as not to be overheard, “I’ve heard the jails here are really horrible.”
“OK, you’re the wizard—figure out what to do because I’m going to pull it out in about two minutes.” I thought for about ninety seconds and then, just before MP pulled my hard cock from my trunks, we went invisible. We could still see them, but they couldn’t see us.
I pulled the bottom of MP’s bikini aside and pushed my finger through the space and into her hot cunt. If she could do it to me, I could do it to her. When MP started moaning I put my hand over her mouth. “They can still hear us,” I warned her as we made our own waves and splashes in the water. MP was stroking me frenetically and I was working her pussy just as hard. MP began shaking as her orgasm began but her stroking continued unabated until my first river of cum shot out into the water. MP looked fascinated at the semen as it hung in tiny clouds in the water.
I waited for the right moment before reversing the spell. Even then a guy who was swimming near us did a double-take and asked, “Where did you come from?”
“Underwater. Didn’t you see us?” I replied. It was all MP could do not to laugh.
Mom and Dad offered us a trip as a graduation present. I looked into MP’s eyes and knew in an instant where we wanted to go—Ireland. We found her ancestor’s village and the church cemetery where she was buried. I asked the caretaker about her grave. “Over there, apart from the others, by the stone wall,” he replied in a deep brogue. When I asked why she was alone he replied straightforward, “She was believed to be a witch.”
“Surely, you don’t believe that nonsense.”
“Oh, not me,” he assured us, but we noticed that he blessed himself quickly as he said it. “Would you consider signing the guest book or giving a donation?” MP took the book signing it “Mary Patricia O’Brien Mason” as Dad gave him a one hundred Euro bill. We saw that the grave had been neglected so we bought some garden tools and, under the scrutiny of the caretaker, cleaned it up, and planted some flowers just as we had done with Mandy. Those flowers were still thriving ten years later when I took MP back for a second visit.
We went away to college and MP was sorrier to leave Mom than I was. We lived off campus in a small apartment a few blocks from school. For the most part the four years were uneventful, but MP did have the occasional problem with men, not that she couldn’t handle them. By now she knew more than a hundred spells. She had enough power on her own to manage most of them and she was able to tap into mine for those that required a little extra. I was studying in the library and she was in the student union when the first occurred. I could “see” the two football players approach her table. It was a simple spell; MP didn’t mind my “spying” and I felt better knowing that she was OK. Like I really had to worry--when the assholes got a bit too aggressive she recited the same spell she had used against her father. It was too funny to watch these bruisers writhe on the floor in agony. MP remembered not to touch her fingers together, but she came pretty close. I sent her a message—“Nice going, tiger. I’ll give you a special reward when we get home.”
She sent one back, “Oh, goody! I have a nice reward in mind for you, too.” After that the word got out—“leave that red-headed bitch alone!”
I turned twenty-one my senior year and, because I had demonstrated mastery over more than five hundred spells, was elevated to warlock—my powers tripled! After graduation I attended a prestigious law school and in my last year MP rewarded me by telling me she was pregnant. I obtained a position with a firm that specialized in civil law. My first big case was against the asbestos industry. I was just about to open our case when I asked the judge for a continuance. I got it when I told him my wife was about to give birth. MP had twins—a wizard and a witch—both with flaming red hair. We named them Patrick and Patricia.
I’ve been sitting here at my desk reminiscing about the past. It’s a luxury I’ve rarely enjoyed. But today is special. Today’s my last day—I’m retiring as soon as Mary Patricia (yes, I stopped using that silly nickname years ago) arrives to take me to lunch and then we’ll drive to our summer home in Bar Harbor, Maine where she’s planning to fuck me silly. Some days I can’t remember what I had for breakfast, but I can see these events as bright as day even though they began more than fifty years ago. I’m now senior partner at one of the country’s most powerful law firms. I made a fortune taking on big oil, tobacco, and the pharmaceutical industries. CNN once described my courtroom performance as “magical” because of my ability to anticipate my opponent’s every move. Remember—I told you I always used my magic for good.
MP had promised me sex three times every day. When she did I thought she’d tire or that stresses would slow her down. But that never happened. There were times—when I was working seventy hours a week as a young attorney or if I was in a tough case—when it was cut to two—maybe a blowjob in the morning and some hot sex when I staggered home exhausted. Then she’d do all the work. Other than that it’s been three-a-day, more than a thousand a year. I figure that wonderful woman has given me more than 40,000 orgasms and I’ve tried to reciprocate every time. She’s given me so much more than just sex. She is exactly as I described her to her mom so many years ago—the most loving, caring, most unselfish person in the world. No wonder I love her so much.
Our son, Patrick, is a congressman from Connecticut; our daughter Patricia, a cardiologist in Pittsburgh. We have four grandchildren—three wizards and a witch. Mary Patricia hasn’t changed much over fifty years. She still has that beautiful red hair and in all that time she has gained only ten pounds making her breasts, ass, and tummy just a tiny bit larger, but just as inviting.
We ran into Mandy’s brother Steven when we visited Mandy’s grave about twenty-five years ago. I thought his wife looked a bit familiar. She was—it was Alicia Young. Steven had never met a witch so he was given permission to marry an ordinary woman. She told me, ‘Daddy was all set to move when he suddenly changed his mind; he never did that before! So Steven and I…well, I did tell you I gave great blowjobs.” We all had a good laugh as Steven gave me a knowing wink.
Mary Patricia still has my locket. She has, true to her word, never taken it off. When asked about it she always says the same thing, “Jeremy gave it to me when we were very young. It holds his heart; I always keep it close to mine.”
Overall, it’s been a wonderful life. Yes…giving Mary Patricia boobs was a marvelous decision—the best of my life.