HOT AND COLD
Between the windy, swirling
fire
And all the stillness of the moon,
Sweet witch, you danced at my desire,
Turning some weird and lovely rune
To paces like the swirling fire.
As in the Sabbat's ancient
round
With strange and subtle you went;
And toward the heavens and toward the ground
Your steeple-shapen hat was bent
As in the Sabbat's ancient round.
Upon the earth your paces
wrought
A circle such as magicians made...
And still some hidden thing you sought
With hands desirous, half afraid,
Beyond the ring your paces wrought.
Your supple youth and
loveliness
A glamor left upon the air:
Whether to curse, whether to bless,
You wrought a stronger magic there
With your lithe youth and loveliness.
Your fingers, on the smoke and
flame,
Moved in the mysterious conjuring;
You seemed to call a silent Name,
And lifted like an outstretched wing
Your somber gown against the flame.
What darkling and demonian
Lord,
In fear or triumph, did you call?
Ah! was it then that you implored,
With secret signs equivocal,
The coming of the covens' Lord?
Sweet witch you conjured forth
my heart
To answer always at your will!
Like Merlin, in some place apart,
It lies enthralled and captive still:
Sweet witch, you conjured thus my heart!
“Witch
Dance”, Weird Tales, Sept. 1941, Clark Ashton Smith
Jake sat on the couch at the
party, marvelling at the changeability of women.
Not two hours before, he had
arrived with his girlfriend Reba. As a special sexy treat they had decided not to
wear underwear, and it had been a huge turn-on for him to think that under her
mid-length taupe skirt there was nothing except for her olive skin and light
dusting of brown pubic hair around her sex.
Unfortunately, the evening had
spiralled considerably out of control, and not in the way they had originally
intended.
The disaster began as Jake drank
with two friends of his, William (of spray-painting incident fame) and Rice (of
cellar and housemate fame). This in itself was enough to blacken Reba’s mood.
She was no fan of Jake’s friends, and was terrified of the paranormal
strangeness that struck them. Jake could tell that the prospects for his night
of wild sex were evaporating.
On top of that, as the three
friends drank and muttered like old veterans of some weird war, a Eurasian girl
who floated through the party like some enchanted moth caught Jake’s attention.
Her almond-shaped brown eyes and straight soft black hair captured his desire
at once. The situation, sadly, went not entirely unremarked by Reba, who
pounced on Jake, forcing him to kiss her. When she suspected (with some
correctness) that he was still gazing at the newcomer, she promptly threw a
full glass of beer all over him and stormed out of the party.
Rice commiserated, having never been
a fan of Reba or her incredible mood swings. William, ever the more circumspect
when the triumvirate met, shook his head –for the umpteenth time- at Jake’s
propensity for strange (if physically attractive) bedfellows.
The party wore on and Jake continued
his meanderings around the room. It wasn’t the sort of social gathering where
anyone felt especially comfortable, so Rice left early, William left late, and
soon it was Jake, the mystery girl and a handful of others.
A profoundly obnoxious Irishman was
chatting up the mystery girl, talking at her, when she simply walked off away
from him, ignoring his bellowed valedictory “bitch!”.
“Hello. My name is Susan.
And yours?”
“Jake.”
“Would you like to leave, Jake?”
“Sure.”
With no more conversation than
that, Jake found himself leaving the party with Susan. They arrived at her car,
a late model white Commodore with graceful lines.
Susan started it up, Jake settled
back into his seat.
“Look at Mars tonight,” Susan said
as she backed the car out.
“Where?”
“Over there, on the far horizon.
See? The yellow star is Jupiter. The little ruby light- that’s what you call
Mars.”
“Are you an astronomy buff,
Susan?”
“No.”
Shifting in his seat in the warm
and comfortable car Jake accidentally brushed Susan’s left hand. It was cool
but not cold and there was a tremendous almost electrical shock that they both
seemed to feel.
“I- I don’t know what to do,
Jake.” Susan’s confession seemed to be awkward. Jake pondered whether she meant
sexually, socially, or about some other problem to which she was about to
refer. She soon clarified herself.
“I want to make love to you. But I
also am worried- I shouldn’t have gone to the party.”
With the easy amorality of all men
his age Jake glided over the deeper imponderables of the assignation.
“Look, it’s happened, we’re here…
or are you worried about a boyfriend..?”
“No, nothing like that. I don’t
have long that’s all… It’s always so mild here… not too hot or cold, not like
home at all…”
“What?”
“Birds always sing in the trees
where I am from. There is always music in the air over there. But it is very
lonely sometimes.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. I want you. I want you.
Badly…maybe we should go to… I think you say Windy Point?”
Windy Point, a lookout and overlook
above the city was a notorious “make-out” location. Not the sort of place that
Jake’s social set customarily went unless they were slumming.
“It’ll be dead at this hour. Suit
you?”
“Very much.” Susan smiled as she
said this, and at that moment Jake saw her as the most radiantly beautiful
woman on Earth. His senses were full of her, the air of the car made stuffy by
the powerful hidden heater only heightened his feeling of sexual intoxication.
Her slight form seemed positively voluptuous to him.
In the rest of the short drive
there were few long conversations and nothing of consequence. They had reached
some new understanding.
At last Susan’s Commodore glided
to a halt. Windy Point’s pretty little restaurant was shut and locked up tight
and all was still.
Each of them unbuckled their seat
belt. They slid the chairs back in the car and came together in a mashing fit
of passion. Susan fiddled with Jake’s jeans, freeing a bulge that sprang open
to reveal his straining phallus. At the same time, Jake pulled open Susan’s
cardigan and then deftly unbuttoned her silk shirt. As he touched her bare skin
and caressed her nipples she leaned over and engulfed him.
Jake almost cried out in pain! Her
mouth was icy cold. And yet somehow his passion didn’t cool with the icy
sucking. He was adrift in another state, her tongue no less skilled than any
other lover he had had… in fact there was something exotic, almost animal, in
her desperate movements. Almost as he had reached orgasm, suddenly her mouth
went from ice cold to blazing hot, more familiar to him, but then the heat grew
painfully intense. Jake cried out as he came, jetting semen into her mouth. A
gentleman of sorts, he fumbled for a tissue, but Susan swallowed down his
ejaculate without pause.
The night was cool but both of
them felt warm, physically hot in fact. They finished stripping and opened the
car doors, approaching the overlook wall. Jake manhandled Susan, in preparation
for him to take her doggy style. Wrestling with surprising strength, she turned
them both around. Now it was she facing the stars, pressing Jake’s backside up
against the rough stone wall. She leaped on to his straining member. Her sex
was covered with a thin silky mound of black fur, her heavy breasts jiggling
delightfully. She vigorously moved herself as Jake held her around the waist.
Her waif-like form had heavy breasts, conical and full; these brushed and
bounced against Jake as he enjoyed the sexual fulfilment of his life to that
time. He had never been as big, or hard – her excitation of his raging hard-on
was intense, forming his penis into a rubbery rod of iron.
Susan cried out, orgasming… Jake
heard her but understood not a word. With some tiny part of his brain not taken
over by lust and copulatory urges he realised that he did not recognise the
syllables… what was it? Eskimo? Finnish? She looked like she was half-Chinese
but this language…
Then Jake himself was washed away
on another tidal crash of orgasm… Susan’s tight vagina was gripping him
fiercely, her nails raking him, his hand heavy on her hips, her breasts… His
cock pumped and twitched inside her, her cold scented tongue licking his face,
its forked tip --
Jake awoke in his girlfriend’s
cramped bed, the weak morning light shining through the poorly curtained window.
Reba stirred next to him, and playfully tugged on his semi-erect member.
“Jesus Jake, you were an animal
last night.”
“What the fuck are you talking
about?”
“When you got here. 3 A.M.”
“I got here? How-“ Jake realised
at this point that if he hadn’t hallucinated everything at the tail end of the
party he needed to be circumspect.
“How did you get in? Must have
climbed the wall like last time. You know, one of these days one of the Jesuits
is going to catch you and you’re going to end up in gaol.”
Reba lived in a Catholic
residential college – not a perfect situation for a visiting ‘heathen’
boyfriend.
“Er… yeah. So… animal, eh?”
“Oooh yeah. We fucked and fucked…
never come so much, baby.”
“No, me neither. Still, I aim to
please.”
Reba held his thickening penis,
massaging it almost gently before gripping it like a claw as it stiffened…
“Yeah… I just want to know one
thing…”
“Mmmmm… Yes, Reba!”
“Who’s Susan, you fucking
two-timing bastard?”
story (c) Jonathan Nolan 2002
people have heard the Red-Eye screaming