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From: "Ray1031" <ray1031@cac.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} (Mardi Gras) Visit to Mama Rosa's,  by Ray1031  (MfF, Magic)
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Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 05:10:06 -0500
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A Visit to Mama Rosa's           (MfF, Magic)
By Ray1031


This is my story ..... copyrighted and belonging to me.
Want to use it .... ask!

Check the codes before reading .... don't like them, don't read further.
Like the codes .... enjoy the story.
Ray


A Visit to Mama Rosa's
by Ray1031


I woke Sunday morning surprised that I wasn't suffering a hangover,
especially after Friday and Saturday nights. I'd arrived Thursday and found
that the city was as much a party at this time of year as I had heard. I had
spent the past couple of days watching the different parades in late morning
and wandering among the entertainers, artists and locals lining the walks
and parks on the south side of the city. At night I had enjoyed the lights,
festive displays and the atmosphere of abandon and revelry. At the
recommendation of a friend I had checked out the French Quarter after the
end of the Friday Parades and sure enough there had seemed to be much frenzy
in the throng, women flashing their breasts and beads thrown from balconies
into the crowds below.

Yet the frenzied atmosphere itself was a turn-off for me as I wandered the
streets, threading my way through the crowds. The knots of too-drunk
revelers choking the ebb and flow of partiers moving from place to place.
Too many Spring-Break aged lunkheads, over intoxicated and crowding any
available female on the street. Demanding she display herself for the crowd.
Reaching to touch, or pinch, grasp and grab when someone gave in to their
cajoling.

While I enjoyed a good party and abandon in the streets, I preferred things
done a bit more civilly than seemed to be done in the French Quarter.
Saturday night I tried an area closer to the city center and found things
more to my liking. While the street bands performed and people moved about
in their costumed gaiety I joined in the dancing and drinking, enjoying the
slightly less hectic atmosphere I found here.

This morning though, I am heading to the market and the river walk. I will
be needing gifts and souvenirs for friends and family back home or I will be
in some serious trouble.


Minutes after stepping onto the River Walk I see her, and remember having
seen her before. I have stopped at the first booth to examine their
offerings of beads and balls, T-shirts and other memorabilia. I return the
bright purple rubber ball with it's gold stars to its display space as she
catches my eye. She is moving through the strolling crowds, head turning
this way and that in a most frantic and jerky manner. Her nose seems raised
in the air as if she is sniffing out a trail, an elusive spore among all the
heady scents and odors blanketing the city at this time of year. She strikes
me as being a bloodhound on a scent. There is the air about her of one who
has lost a younger brother and desperately seeks him again before mom and
dad find out and beat her soundly for it. There is that in her face, in her
expression, that is more woman than child and there is a need - a hunger
reflected there. She makes me nervous ...

She can't be more than fourteen to look at her. A slight, dark haired, child
woman in a kind of gypsy garb. A tight golden blouse, a satiny sheen of
brightness outlining walnut sized titties. It is cinched tightly at her
waist and hips by a wide purple sash tied off at her left hip. The dangling
tips of the sash flipping this way and that at her knee. Her movements
frenzied in their intensity. Below the sash she wears dull green pegged
jeans that end above thin, bare, knobby ankles and tiny feet in flat shoes.
Her dark mane of hair is pulled back into a pony tail that hangs nearly to
the sash crossing her waist and right upper buttock in the rear.

Alarm bells are going off in my head and I turn from my path, which would
have carried me within a few feet of the questing young girl, and step away
between two booths. Moving along the backs of the booths, continuing in the
direction I had been originally traveling. I wonder at my actions and can't
explain them. It was silly to be so nervous of one young child, yet I
admitted to myself that I was indeed that nervous. I had been last night
when I saw her as well. There had been something ...



I had been sitting, leaning really, on the low raised wall of a street side
park. Watching the revelers moving around me while I caught my breath after
having participated in a street dance. A few minutes only I rested and moved
on again, accepting a plastic cup of beer from a passing acquaintance I had
met only a short time before.  He had laughed, clapped me on the shoulder
and pressed the half full cup into my hand - how could I have refused. Ten
or fifteen feet further along I had come to an already over-flowing trash
receptacle and paused. Raising the cup to my lips I drained it of its few
swallows of warm beer and dropped the cup onto the top of the over-full
container. The cup rolled over the edge and joined the rising pile at the
canister's base. I left it lay and glanced around the crowded street. When
my eyes returned to where I had been resting against the low wall, the crowd
parted and I saw her. She'd had that same hungry, questing look then. Had
seemed to be sniffing the air and searching. In the bare moments she was in
my view I saw her hand slowly stretch forth and touch the very spot I'd
believed I had leaned. Then the crowd surged back into the gap and blocked
my view. The hackles had risen at the back of my neck and a chill had gone
through me. I had turned and blundered through the crowd, not stopping until
I had put a few blocks between myself and the questing child.



I am stepping past the fourth or fifth booth crossing the gap between this
one and the next when movement on the walk itself catches my eye. It is a
street juggler and I stop a moment to watch his antics. He is amazing.
Standing alone in a circle of watching spectators his hands are moving
quickly from side to side and his gaily colored balls are rising and falling
in the air about him. Just when I am sure he's going to miss one his hand is
there and it rises again into the air. I find myself trying to count the
number of balls he has aloft, but find I cannot. There are too many, their
arcs and orbits too erratic and intermixed for an accurate count. But I want
to know - feel I must know - I move through the gap between booths to get
closer. A tiny voice deep inside of me is telling me I should not  be doing
this, that I should move much further down the row of booths before
returning to the river walk. I ignore the voice.

Compulsion or no, my eyes shift to the right as I emerge from between the
booths, my head follows my eyes until both are lock on the place the girl
had stood before. She is gone. A crowd of people stand there now, an eddying
knot in the sea of moving people crowding the river walk. But the knot is
comprised all of bright greens, purples and duller golds, no flash of a
bright golden sheen is to be found. She is gone from that place.

My head begins turning back towards the juggler, being drawn back by the
mystifying need to know exactly how many balls he is juggling at one time.
My eyes however flick further to the right and I see her again, for an
instant only, through the constantly shifting crowd of people. Before the
turning of my head drags my eyes away. Before the shifting of the crowds
between once more obscures her presence. She stands now before the very
booth where I myself stood but a minute or so ago. The same questing air
hangs about her, her head is slightly raised, her nose seeming to taste the
air about her. In her hands she holds a bright purple ball with gold stars.
Her eyes seem closed, though the distance makes it difficult to be sure. The
crowds have interceded again and my turning head has dragged my eyes away.
My skin prickles.

I move to the edge of the crowd before me and push between people until I
can see all of the juggler. See all of his flying balls and the movements of
his arms. I try to count and lose my place. The wee small voice in my head
is trying to make itself heard and yet I feel I *must* know how many balls
are being kept aloft before me. I begin my count again losing my place
almost immediately, the balls a blur in their travels to my suddenly foggy
brain - and the little voice is becoming more insistent, more understandable
*"You must leave here"* it says to me. Again I begin my count, concentrating
as powerfully as I can, counting six balls, then seven - No wait, you
counted that one before didn't you? The juggler's left hand flashes to a
wide mouth pouch at his left hip and emerges with another ball, returns to
the juggling ballet. But didn't his right hand also flash to the pouch on
his other hip and drop one in? I'm getting dizzy trying to follow the
movements before me and the voice has finally gotten through to my obsessed
mind. I must leave.

I back through the crowd, gently yet swiftly, the gathered bodies allowing
me to pass. Hoping to improve their own positions in the press. As I move my
hands reach quickly to touch each of my pockets, verifying that they still
hold my wallet, keys, the extra small pouch holding my credit card and
driver's license. Everything is where they should be and I feel relief for
I've heard and read the stories of thieves and pocket-picks who often
practice their trades in such crowds.

I bump into someone as I step free of the crowd, turn to apologize and find
it is she. The feelings of elation and relief of a moment ago are gone in
that recognition. I suddenly want to scream, to call for help and run in
sheer terror from this mere slip of a girl, without even knowing the reason
why.

Deep muddy brown eyes lock with mine as she reaches out with one small hand
and touches my sleeve. At her touch a feeling of electricity passes through
me and must have passed through her as well. A barely perceptible fit seems
to claim her at the touch and her eyes develop a slight glaze, even as a
moment of crystal clarity claims me.  I understand deep within myself that I
am being somehow bewitched by this young creature. Her eyes clear again, the
fingers and thumb of her hand on my sleeve grip ever so gently and my moment
of clarity is gone. A fog once again settling over my mind as the sanity and
clarity of a moment ago are sent gibbering into dark depths, deep inside my
head.

"What you do here, Man?" she says, a marked Cajun accent to her words (which
actually sounded more like "Wha choo do he-yah, Mohn?"). "Shopping be you,
Man?" My very being is torn in two at her words, the sound of her voice, the
touch of her hand. Part of me hears the normal tones of a child bordering on
womanhood. Hears the higher lilting tones of the child voice beginning to be
underscored by the softer, throatier promise of sultriness to come. That
part of me wants to tear my arm free, wishes to turn away and make a break
for freedom - for I feel that it is my very freedom that I am losing here.
Yet surrounding that part of me is the fog and in that fog something prowls,
a baser part of me that makes its needs, its wants known. I feel my pulse in
my cock.

"You come along with Reyne, Man. Reyne takes you to Mama Rosa's. She have
everything for you, Man." She turns her gaze from me, but maintains the
gentle grip on my forearm as she begins to thread her way through the crowd.
I follow. I allow myself to be led. My cock begins to stiffen.



"Hello Man. Mama Rosa welcomes you Man." Mama Rosa, as she called herself
was an older version of the woman-child that had led me here. Wearing an
identical outfit to that on the girl, the woman before me had a much more
developed body. Where the girl's breasts barely defined themselves inside
the tight gold blouse, those of the woman before me strained against the
material. The sash and jeans of this woman defined well shaped and flaring
hips, molded to well formed thighs and calves. The girl's clothing, on the
other hand, barely defined a difference between waist and hips and the
leggings of her jeans hardly seemed to touch her flesh as she moved. Still,
the woman before me had the same deep, muddy brown eyes and the same
intensity seemed to hang about her. "I see my little Reyne has found you,
Man. Here Man, Drink this." She held up a finely detailed silver cup where I
could see it and I both saw and felt my hand reach to take it through no
volition of my own. "Everyone coming to Mama Rosa's during Fat Tuesday
celebration gets a welcome drink, Man."

The drink was honey sweet and smooth going down my throat and my head
cleared immediately. I tried to ask this woman what was going on, what they
wanted from me, but I had no more control over my body than I had while my
mind was fogged.

"You go into the back room, Man. My little Reyne will show you the way. Mama
Rosa will be closing and locking her shop, Man, then she will be joining
you. Don't you worry none, Man. I will be telling you everything soon."
There is a slight pulling at my arm and I turn my head to look into  the
eyes of the girl called Reyne. She turns and walks away between tables
loaded with items for sale in what I now know is Mama Rosa's Natural Foods
and Herbology Shoppe. I can see the name emblazoned on a placard behind the
counter at the rear. Reyne leads me around the end of this counter and
through a beaded curtain into the living space beyond.

The room I find myself in seems to be an all in one living space. I am
seated on a sofa against one wall. Directly across from me, against the far
wall, is the kitchen; gas stove, refrigerator, sink and cabinets, all
fronted by a small table with two chairs. Two doorways with beaded curtains
occupy the far corner of the room. The one to the left I know leads back
into the store beyond. It is through this that we entered the room. I have
yet to learn where the other curtain leads.

Reyne is moving about the kitchen space, pouring steaming water into another
silver cup, or is it the same one? To this she adds a large spoonful of
something from an unmarked pottery canister. In a small frame beneath the
cabinets a single shiny spoon hangs, as if enshrined for some reason. Reyne
takes this down and uses it to stir the concoction as she carries the cup to
where I sit. Removing the spoon she holds the cup out to me and says simply,
"Drink." I resist, or try to resist as my hands immediately rise into view
and carefully take hold of the cup. Reyne releases it.

I try to fight the compulsion that makes me drink what has been given me.
Try to force my hands to drop the cup or tip it out and spill it's contents
to the floor. I try to pull my head back or turn away from my approaching
hands. Beyond a bare moment of hesitation before my hands move the cup to my
mouth - other than a quiver that passes through my arms and causes a slight
rippling of the cups contents; my efforts lead to naught. My hands bring the
cup to my mouth and I drink as instructed.

Mama Rosa stands in the shop doorway. Holding the beads parted with her arms
she watches me drink then turns to Reyne. "The blood is strong in this one.
Your feelings about him be right, Little Reyne. The calling you felt was a
true one indeed. With the draught I served him in the shop he should not be
able to make even this resistance. Yet he does. Strong blood indeed."
Turning to me she says, "I know you are awake in there Man. You have to be
or the magics will not be working. I know you have questions that need
answering. You want to know how this is done to you and what you are needed
here for. Mama Rosa is going to answer your questions for you, Man. You see,
Mama Rosa is a witch and so be her daughter Reyne."

"What you are here for Man is to give my little Reyne a witch daughter of
her own." Inside of my head I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Witches
and magic weren't real. Men could not be forced to father a baby within a
child against their will. This could not be happening to me.

"Things all started over four hundred years ago Man. A village in southern
France was being decimated by a plague. Not  only cattle, but animals of the
land were dying. Crops were failing in the fields. Children being born dead,
Man. A priest, high up in the Christian church came in to cast the demons
from the land, declaring that the troubles the people were suffering was a
punishment from the Christian God for their disbelief. The people themselves
had allowed the Devil in to ruin their lands. He made his prayers, preached
his preaches and cast his waters on the land - still the blight continued.
Witches in those days were mostly gypsies. Family units traveling the land,
visiting the villages, helping and healing the peoples where they could."

"Witches do have powers, Man. Real magics they gain from the earth mother
herself, for they be really guardians and doctors of the earth. Though
witches often help the world of man, healing the sick, easing births and
making potions for ailments of the heart and spirit as well as of the body.
It is the earth itself they really serve and heal in their travels."

"There was a family of witches in those times who were very much powerful,
Man. They heard of the troubles in the village and traveled there to cure
the earth and end the curse which caused the trouble. For it was a curse
which was to blame. A witch, to retain her power cannot herself take a life.
Neither the life of a man, nor the life of an animal of the earth. For this
reason many witches are considered vegetarian, though they need not be. Meat
they may eat and flesh of any kind, they simply can not do the killing
themselves - least they be cursed. An animal killed by another holds no
curse for them. Still, though killing they can not directly do, yet they may
make a curse to afflict those they be angry with and who hurt their
families. Or at the request of or in the service of another. A curse had
been laid on the land and this family of power used their skills to lift it.
They were not doing what they did in secret then, witches once were open in
their works for the good of the world and it's peoples. Openly they moved
about the land lifting and fighting the curse that had been laid upon it.
Curing the land of its ills had cured the ailing of the peoples and animals
living there. Health and an end to the blight were soon seen everywhere in
the affected land and the people were happy."

"All of the people that is save the Priest from the Christian's church. He
became furious that these simple folk could make good what his prayers and
the powers of his God could not. He wandered among the land and declared the
family servants of the Devil. He charged that they had originally laid the
curse on the land and had lifted it only in fear of the God of the Christian
Church and in hopes of personal and financial gain from the peoples
themselves. This was partly true for the traveling families depended much on
the kindness of those they helped for the few things they needed in life. In
the end the Priest charged the town to rid themselves and the world of the
demons or face the wrath of the Christian churches in the form of military
troops. The family was slaughtered outright in the city square and all the
Priests of the land soon began declaring witches to be servants to enemies
of the church. That is the beginning of what history now calls the Witch
Trials. While many innocents lost their lives in these times, many a witch
did also."

"For hundreds of years witches lived in hiding among the lands, doing their
magics in secret. Healing the lands and helping peoples where and when they
safely could."

"Today, with the changes in laws and the powers of the Christian churches in
much of the world, the witches are increasing their numbers and returning to
their power in the world. This is not yet being done too openly, but it is
happening. The larger magics and the healing of the land are being done in
secret yet. But their helpings of the world of man are more openly done
today than in years past. Through health food stores, herb markets and the
selling of supposed novelty charms and luck items. As yet, only one in
hundreds of such things are really of witch origin and hold any power. But
we are making a start towards helping man survive in the world and helping
the world to survive man."

While she talked and related her tale, Mama Rosa had come to kneel at my
feet and look into my eyes as she spoke. The intensity of her eyes telling
me of her belief in the words she spoke. Reyne had taken a seat on the sofa
beside me, lightly resting a hand on my right arm where it rested on my
thigh.

"I think now you wonder what this all has to do with you, Man. Mama Rosa is
going to tell you and tell you how you are going to give my little Reyne her
own witch child to raise.

I told you how witches are trying to increase their numbers and return to
levels of power they knew in those old days. There is a trouble thing here
for them though. For a witch to be born, a true witch, the power of the
witch must be combined with the seed of a man whose bloodline is one of
power. Not power as the world knows of it today, through money or position
in the world. But power in the old ways, brought about when the mother of
the earth blesses a particular family and those born to it. Yours is such a
family it seems. Reyne felt the power in your blood calling her when you
arrived in the city Thursday last. She dreamed of it. She has been seeking
you since, her witch blood crying out to join with the power contained in
your seed."

"This makes me think of the other thing you need understand about what we
are doing here. Just as it takes one whose seed carries this power to make a
true witch. The best witch, the one with the most true power will be that
one which is born from my little Reyne's first sexual experiences, when they
are done according to the rules laid down in the old times. The greatest
joining of her witch powers and the power contained in your seed will only
be bestowed within her first child. Later children, while having some witch
inside them will never have the power of the first. This is why you are
here. This is what must be done for my little Reyne. You are here to take
her in the old ways and make in her a girl child which will grow into a
strong witch. You are thinking now that no one can make the sex of the baby
be what they want, but you are wrong in this thought. The power of the witch
magic itself will make the baby into a girl and she will be given both the
power of the witch and the power which has been granted to your blood by the
earth."

"Do you understand, Man? Do you know now why you are here? The drink Reyne
has given to you is a drink of power and energy. When things begin, you will
feel more sexual power than you have ever known before. This will strengthen
your seed even more, Man. It is time to begin. You will stand for me now."


With every fiber of my being I fought against the command she had just given
me. Strove to not allow myself to follow her directions. Yet I stood. Stood
quietly, docilely as Mama Rosa began methodically removing my clothing.

My belt was the first thing loosened, and the button and fly of my jeans
were opened and allowed to hang. She moved to my shirt then and began
carefully undoing each button in it's turn, pulling up the shirt tails to
undo the final button and free the shirt from my pants. She undid the button
of first one cuff, then the other and stepped behind me to slide the shirt
from my shoulders and remove it.

Reyne, had stood while this was happening and moved to stand in front of me.
Very matter-of-factly she removed all of her clothing until she stood naked
before me. While Mama Rosa continued to remove my clothing and my own body
compliantly moved to help her at each touch or softly spoken direction, I
stared at Reyne with my eyes. Pleading with my mind that she not do this to
me. That she not force me to steal the innocence of one I thought to be a
child. Yet at that moment, I somehow knew that she was probably more mature
than I in her commitment to these obligations and beliefs. I knew that she
wanted this as much as her mother wanted it for her and I felt a kind of
shame within myself. Shame for not wanting to have any part in what was to
come.

Reyne's body is thin, almost gaunt looking. Having slender almost stick-like
arms and legs, knobby looking at the major joints. Every rib stands out
prominently, her hip bones jut and the bones of her cheeks stand starkly in
her narrow face. Her stomach is so flat it is practically concave. The only
*extra* flesh she displays anywhere is in her small breasts, which now
appear more lemon than walnut sized, and the narrow protruding lips of her
small pussy below the thin but dark patch of hair. When she bends before me
to gather her clothing and place them onto a chair, even her ass appears
flat and barely protruding.

I am supposed to father a child in *this*? I am now convinced that I will
kill her if I even try. Forcing my thick cock into that tiny opening will
split her open or damage something within her frail sickly looking body. If
I develop the passion and abandon Mama Rosa has said I will, then I will be
breaking those frail looking bones, or crushing her with my weight. I was
terrified of the very prospect.

Naked now, I remain placid as Mama Rosa moves to stand beside her daughter
and begins removing her own clothing. She is as matter-of-fact about it as
her daughter had been, though the body she reveals I find much more to my
liking. Her high, unsupported breasts come into view first, each enough to
easily fill a hand. The waist she reveals is narrow, her lower stomach
slightly rounded. Wide flaring hips and firm, high buttocks are next before
her jeans slide down wonderfully tapered and strong looking legs. Gathering
her clothing and standing again a thick curly bush is revealed which
completely conceals her pussy from my view. "Now this," I thought to myself,
"I wouldn't mind fucking." The muscles of my pelvis reflexively contract and
I feel my cock bob in front of me. It is only at this moment that I realize
my cock is already erect and standing rigid before me.

"Mama Rosa likes what you have there, Man. She is thinking she will take her
turn when Reyne has her baby inside her. But we must finish making things
prepared first. You will move the table against that wall please." and she
pointed to the wall adjacent the door I had entered through.

I felt myself moving forward and saw my hands moving to the edges of the
small table. Picking it up easily I carry it to the indicated wall and set
it down. I stand again but do not turn. I try to turn. I want to turn. I
want to both see what they are doing in the room behind me and to actually
make any voluntary motion of my own. Nothing works though. I stand here and
face the blank wall, waiting.

Finally though the command comes and I turn to face the room. Some things
appear to now be scattered about the center of the room, dried flowers and
dark little bits of something. Onto this, two of the sofa cushions have been
stacked and Reyne now rests on her back atop them, her legs spread in a wide
Vee. Her mother kneels at her side, two fingers dipping into a jar she holds
in her hand. I am moving forward as she removes her fingers from the jar and
begins smearing her daughter's pussy with what she has dipped from the jar.

"This, Man, will make the entering easier for the both of you. It will also
soften any pain my daughter might feel and increase her pleasure in the act.
Kneel between her legs, Man and put your hands onto her chest." I do as I am
told and Mama Rosa moves my hands into the position she wants them, the
fingers above her small breasts, the thumbs below, capturing them between
the thumbs and the sides of my palms. Reyne raises her knees to either side
of my hips. Reaching around to grip the insides of her thighs and pull them
back. Spreading the thin lips of her pussy and opening herself for me.

Without direction my body shuffles itself forward, heals touching beneath my
buttocks and knees spreading wide as they come up against the edges of the
stacked cushions. The tip of my hard-on touches her pussy and I stop.

Mama Rosa leans forward and takes hold of my swollen cock, positioning it
against the opening of her daughter's pussy. "You hold her breasts now, Man.
Hold her breasts and pull while you push forward with your hips."

I do as instructed and feel my cock forcing it's way into her never before
used pussy. Feeling the tension of her muscles as they twitch and flex in
the ever stretching flesh of her young cunt. I want to cry, to weep for
myself and this child woman I am violating. Whatever her mother has spread
on her pussy is indeed making entry easier. The slipperiness of the stuff is
transferring itself to my cock, preventing the probable dryness of her pussy
from causing excess friction and pain for either of us. I am looking into
her eyes as I slide forward into her and pulling her down onto me. Her look
is one of concentration and determination. Her brows furrow and her jaw is
clenched but there is an intensity in her eyes. She wants this and what it
will bring for her.

A red haze is rising over my eyes, clouding my vision. The further into her
I slide, the deeper the haze becomes. I feel my cock come against something
unyielding before I am fully inside of her and now I cannot see at all. The
haze is my world now. The haze, the blood pounding in my ears and the
sensations engulfing my cock.

I begin to fuck then. Shifting backwards with my hips, pushing away with my
hands until only a portion of my cock remains within her. Forward again with
the hips, pulling with my hands as I push inside her once again. Again and
again this repeats, becoming faster and harder as time passes until I am
hitting hard against the blockage within her depths. Still it continues and
I lose all sense of time and my surroundings. Only the motion and the
sensations gripping me matter now. I do not know exactly when I become aware
of my hips actually meeting hers, but I do. Hearing a repeating squelching
and slapping sound as we continue to fuck. Now I become aware of her thin
legs reaching around my hips and her ankles crossing behind my buttocks,
pulling against me, her hips now rising into my lunges.

I do not know when I came. I only know that I have and someone is gripping
my shoulder. Mama Rosa is telling me to stop and I do, immediately. Half in
and half out of Reyne I stop and await further instructions. I still cannot
see. The haze yet covers my vision and I still strongly desire to keep
fucking. My body wants to continue. Yet the constraints of Mama Rosa's voice
holds me in check. A hand presses against my stomach and I shift my hips
backwards until my yet rigid cock has exited her. The pressure of the hand
leaves me and I stop where I am, waiting. I can feel things besides my cock
now and I feel the hard flesh of her still young breasts clamped between my
thumb and the sides of my hands. It must be causing her pain and I would
like to relax my grip but I cannot. I can only hold my position and wait.

Reyne's ankles uncross from behind my buttocks and the pressure of her legs
leave the sides of my hips. I feel her knees then as they touch the outsides
of my arms and slide down their lengths. The bent knees come to rest against
the outsides of my wrists. Still I wait. there is movement under me,
something touches my cock and it waggles up and down with the movement of a
hand that now presses down on it. The hand disappears but is soon back,
gripping me by the cock once again and pulling gently forward. I follow the
physical directions and slide forward until I feel my cock pressing against
something. The hand stops moving so I stop. There is firmer pressure against
the sides of my cock now as well as pressure against its tip.

"Enter her slowly, Man. But don't you stop pushing until you are in her or I
tell you to stop." I push forward with my hips and once again pull down
along her body with my hands. The hand on my cock remains where it is and
guides me as I push. The pressure is greater this time and whatever I am
pressing against simply does not want to give, until it finally does. One
moment I am pushing against the unyielding, and in the next, half the head
of my cock is within a tight ring of tension. Still I push as the last
instructions have demanded of me and slowly I feel more and more of me
pressing it's way inside the constricting ring, expanding it, stretching it.
Then the restriction is gone and half my cock slides easily forward. A
tight, narrow restricting ring encircling my shaft part way up it's length.
The hand leaves my cock and I continue pushing forward. Again I reach bottom
before I am all of the way inside. This time I begin fucking without further
instruction, withdrawing until only the head remains inside, then pushing
and pulling myself into her once again.

My rhythm quickly reasserts itself and I am soon rapidly fucking away at the
small body before me. Continuing until I once again know I have cum inside
of her and the touch and voice of Mama Rosa tells me to stop. I am ordered
to release Reyne's breasts now and I do so. Then I am told to stand and I
rise where I am without further movement.

Hot breath blows across my cock and the muscles of my abdomen flex in
response, my cock bobbing up and down even as two small hands encircle it.
Lips touch the tip and then a tongue reaches out to taste what is before it,
withdraws and the lips are back, sliding slowly further up the widely
flaring head. I feel teeth touch me top and bottom and still the lips
advance, followed by slightly increasing pressure from the teeth behind. The
lips and then the teeth pass the flare of the crown and touch the narrower
shaft itself and stop. Hot huffing breath plays down across the top and
around the sides of my cock, between the encircling lips and the grasping
hands, as the tableau remains momentarily frozen.

Other hands take mine and guide them to the sides of the head before me, the
fingers touching a pony tail as they curl around behind. The voice of Mama
Rosa comes again into my head, "Do not move this time. Remain still and
enjoy the sensations, Man."

The hands grasping my cock move then, sliding the skin up and down it's
length between the base and those lips, a soft flexible tongue within that
hot moist cavern sliding across and behind the lower part of my cock head as
the hands pump faster and faster.

Other hands begin stroking my chest, and lips join them, covering my chest,
my nipples with kisses. Those lips wrap around one and suck, while teeth nip
at its tip. The other receives the same treatment. All the while there is
the sensation of wet heat surrounding the head of my cock, a tongue teases
the bottom of it and traces a line part way around the sensitive underside
of the crown. The hands continue to pump while the lips at my chest move to
my left shoulder and around to my back. Those extra hands begin playing at
my sides, sliding up and down, squeezing here, pinching there as that second
pair of lips begin working their way down my back, following the course of
my spine. Still the cave is wet and the snake of a tongue bathes me while
those fisted hands pump.

The lips reach the cleft of my ass and hands shift there, spreading my
buttocks while that other tongue begins to slide up and down the open crack.
It all comes together then, just as that second tongue touches my anus and
tries to probe there, unbelievably, I orgasm for a third time in whatever
span has passed. The lips withdraw from both locations and the hands all
release me. My hands are removed from the head they hold and are placed at
my side. Long minutes pass during which nothing occurs of which I am aware.
My vision begins to clear. First there is a blurring at the edges of the red
haze and slowly it dissolves as more and more light and reality intrudes.

The first thing I become aware of is Mama Rosa standing before me again
proffering the silver cup. "Take this, Man. Drink. You need this now and
will need it more later." I take the cup and drink the contents once again.
Mama Rosa takes back the cup and my hands return to my sides.

Reyne enters the room then, through the second of the beaded curtained
doorways. Both females are completely naked and moving as if it is the most
natural thing in the world to be so. Reyne's hands are on her abdomen and
she announces to Mama Rosa that they were successful. She can feel it.

Mama Rosa smiles then and says, "Then it is now time for Mama Rosa to become
happy too, Man. But come, anything more we do will be done in the comfort of
Mama Rosa's bed." She leads the way through the second curtain and I follow.


-------------------


I do not know how long I have been here now. Many times I have been offered
the silver cup and many times I have taken it from the offered hands. Many
times the red haze has enveloped me and I have fucked until I was told to
stop. How many orgasms I have had during whatever time I have been here I do
not know. If I slept or ate, or did other than drink from the proffered cup
and fuck, I know not.

Mama Rosa and Reyne stand before me now with two silver cups. Reyne tells me
the one she holds will cleanse my head of ill effects from what has gone
before. I drink it. Mama Rosa tells me hers will insure a lasting love in my
life. I drink it.

Shortly after I remember no more.


--------------------


I awoke this morning with no memory of the preceding days, but I must have
had one hell of a time. Fat Tuesday is over and I awakened with a beautiful
woman in bed beside me. I really wish I could remember what has passed, for
she has presented me with a marriage license in our names and a signed
declaration of wedding signed by a Justice of the Peace. That is indeed my
signature on the dotted line and all I have to do is look at her to know I
love her and will always love her.

I made the arrangements with the airlines a few minutes ago and my new wife
has assured me that arrangements will be made for the necessary possessions
to follow after us.

I wonder how I will explain to my family when we arrive. Returning home with
a twenty-eight year old wife, four years my senior, and a fourteen year old
daughter. When I have only been away from home for six days.

Hell, I wonder how I will explain it to my Fiancé.



End.

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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