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Julia’s sighs and squirms of pleasure reinvigorated Hector more than any of her potions. Spreading her legs on the counter, not minding his knees protesting on the hard wood, Hector doubled his efforts of lapping at her. He did not mind the sore jaw: it was a pleasure to lick her puffy lips, swirling his tongue against that sensitive nub to draw louder moans out of the witch, coating his mouth with the taste of her.
How fortunate, that he had not enough money with him; and how convenient, that Julia was ever so resourceful and willing to compromise. And something about her, her sly smile that made him skip a heartbeat, her nails raking up his gloveless hand, was enough that Hector did not think twice to sink to his knees.
“Don’t touch yourself,” she panted: could she sense his erection begging for attention, or was she simply that confident in her charm? “I’ll take care of it.”
It was rude to speak with a mouth full, so in response Hector closed his teeth in the supple flesh of Julia’s thigh. Not hard enough to bruise, no, long were the days where Hector’s groin throbbed at the sight of blood spilled by his hand. But certainly enough to make her squeak and press his head between her legs, long nails grabbing his scalp with demanding force, until he could hear nothing but the sound of his tongue servicing and his own blood pumping in his temples. He devoured her with his mouth and ravished her with a finger, then two, pushing inside her soft walls that opposed no resistance, drinking in her nectar and her stutter of the hips.
By now, he must have earned a tabar axe.
Before he could bring her to climax, Julia pushed Hector away from her with the sole of her boot on his chest; her flushed face framed by blonde bangs brought Hector back to the cottage on the hill, in his bedroom, with curtains tastefully drawn close and not playing dangerous game in a shop…
No. Hector would not pay his cruel mind any heed. This was Julia, bold and mischievous and free from the chains of religion. Hector made a show of licking his lips clean, tasting her last drops: she hummed in amusement, and the sound reverberated through Hector’s body down to his still confined cock. The temptation of climbing on top of the counter and the woman and taking her until she screamed his name boiled his blood; but that was not in the deal, so still he stayed.
“Good job. You can go rest on that chair,” she teased, and pointed with her foot the one rocking chair swinging in a corner. Hector cocked an eyebrow, but obeyed without resistance (if not a slightly awkward gait due to his pulled trousers).
“What are you going to do, if someone decides to pass by your shop right now?” he asked, making himself comfortable on the chair, spreading his legs to relieve some of the pressure mounting. He heeded Julia’s previous order with reluctance.
Julia jumped off the counter, hitching her skirt – Hector’s gaze could not turn away from her legs, bare of the black stockings – and winked. “You’d better hope that they have money to pay with.”
That was not what Hector meant; but his attempts to check that the door was locked were cut short by Julia swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him, trapping heat under her dress. The chair creaked under the weight of Hector leaning backwards, pushed by Julia holding him by the shoulders with a sultry grin on her face, that of a woman who knew what she wanted. And Hector did not mind giving it to her.
One hand went to her hair. She let her ponytail loose, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Hector complied without a sound and with eyes closed shut when Julia used her ribbon to tie his arms behind the chair: because without her usual hairdo, Julia awakened in him memories too painful for him to enjoy the situation.
His Rosaly would have never dared to climb on top of him. The thought grounded him with chains.
Relief, at last, washed over him when Julia’s clever fingers freed him from his trousers: in the darkness, moist warm dragged itself on his shaft, up and down, the tip of his length rubbing against the entrance with impatience – of both of them. Hector’s hips jerked upwards out of his control, smearing more of Julia’s juices on himself, anticipating what was to come with bated breath.
What did he come to the shop for? If he couldn’t remember, it probably wasn’t urgent.
“Will this hold up?” he heard Julia mutter to herself.
“I can keep you steady…”
“No.” A creaking of wood put to the test, and a purr in Julia’s voice. “You are my customer, and I shall service you.”
And who was Hector to disobey a powerful witch?
His smile was captured by a gasp as Julia sank on his cock, engulfing him with red-hot softness. There was no trace of strain in Julia’s movements, no stutter of the hips or noises of pain, but she still took her sweet, slow, maddening time to bury him to the hilt. Tantalizing, just like someone else he used to know. Hector bit his lip to muffle the sounds coming from his mouth.
Julia rolled her hips on top of him with fluid, smooth movements, as if they were husband and wife in the comfort of their bed and not in a shop. She knew tricks Hector wouldn’t have expected, from a reclusive person like her: when she squeezed her core around him, Hector gasped, at the heat and the tightness sending flames up his spine and the boldness of it all. Powerless to do anything else, he opened his eyes: with her hands solid on his shoulders and her spine arched backwards, Julia was simply stunning.
What a woman.
“You’re quite… good at this,” he provoked, all of his effort concentrated to keep his feet and his tone steady. “Is this… a common service that you offer?”
“I could ask you the same question, sir,” Julia replied without missing a bit, not even so much as faltering. Hector huffed from his nose: Julia enchanted him, he could not deny the pull the witch had on him, but something about her, something about the stiffness of her arms, was… off.
“Ever so intriguing…”
At that, for the first time since Julia’s proposal, she leaned towards him. Hector closed his eyes, waiting for his mouth to be taken… but the woman’s lips brushed against his earlobe, as she whispered confidentially.
“Witches don’t, ahh, divulge their secrets. You, mmh, of all people, should know.”
That he did, all too well. He was certainly familiar with magicians keeping things to themselves, and he had never been too keen on it.
No matter, then. Hector had only one mission: to give Julia what she asked of him.
“Would you kindly untie me, my lady?” He winked at Julia’s giggles. “It can go on my tab, if it’s too much trouble.”
The woman pretended to think about it – her hums were not of someone in thought. Ah, she slowed down too, until she nearly sat on top of him, warming his cock like in a furnace. Sweat rolling down his brow, Hector turned to the side to admire the skulls keeping the books upright, so that he would not disappoint Julia with an embarrassing ending.
“Just for you, it’s on the house.”
The ribbon unknotted without effort. Hector moved his hand to tuck the bangs out of Julia’s face, out of habit, but she tied up her hair again without help. Then, if that was how it was going to be: Hector grabbed Julia’s waist with enough force to make her yelp, and he thrusted upwards, finally, properly fucking her as she so clearly wanted; Julia threw her head back, and her voice resounded in the small shop, waving and loud and brimming with pleasure.
Hector chased it, the heat, the mindless ecstasy, he lost himself in another body: it took all of his control to not rip the valuable dress open, but he could grab Julia’s breasts, soft under his palms and his face when he sank in them: she pressed him against her, until he couldn’t breathe, until nothing else existed but her, her warmth, the smell of her skin and sweat that was nothing like Rosaly no no no he was not making love with his wife but a charming woman who tore his heart apart and yet and yet he was so close—
“R—Julia, ahh!!”
Every muscle in Hector’s body jerked and pulled: blinding bliss overcame his senses, and Hector let his body flop backwards, dimly aware of the twitches inside Julia and the wetness dribbling down. Julia kept her body straight, her nails digging in Hector’s shoulders, while she gasped for breath.
“That…” She lifted her head, satisfaction written all over her dark eyes and crimson cheeks, “was fun.”
She didn’t embrace him.
Hector kept his hands to himself while Julia gingerly climbed off of him, only accepting a cloth to clean himself up with.
He swallowed with a dry mouth, watching Julia as she sauntered back behind the counter, taking care of swinging her hips. Not one hair was out of place. Not a wrinkle in her dress. Not even the pendant was crooked. By all means, the moment Hector fastened his trousers, it was as if nothing ever happened: the next customer would happily chat with the shopkeeper, unaware of her bare legs underneath her skirt, or the traces of their illicit encounter between them.
Only her smile widened once Hector approached her, back to business.
… what did he have to buy, again?
“Well,” she cooed, stretching her arm behind her to encompass the exposed merchandise, from iridescent potions to assorted weapons that not even Hector knew where they came from. “You might take what you need.”
And Hector, perhaps still not quite recovered from the languid feeling sizzling in his chest and limbs
(or another feeling, a colder one, seeping through and filling his mind with doubt, memories of being left alone in his bed by a friend who screamed when embraced)
dared to lean on the counter and grab her hand.
“I already did.”
That took Julia off guard. And the way her eyes widened, before a laughter pealed out of her, unconcealed and gentle, was like no other. Hector’s muscles relaxed.
“You’re quite the charmer.” She fiddled with her pendant and brushed away her bangs, in vain. “Then, may I offer you one of my potions, to regain strength for the journey ahead?”
That sounded a perfect idea, for his sore legs and back. Hector ended up stocking on healing potions, a sword forged from rare steel, and then a handful of magical tickets, to bring him back to the shop in case of necessity. One might never know.
“I would like to ask,” Hector called for her attention before departing, “if I struggle again to find enough money, is this going to become custom?”
And Julia propped her head on her elbow, with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, but still brightened her face.
“Perhaps. I’m always willing to allow a discount for my most special client.”