Witch Way... Do You Want Me?

By JM Ross

When Harry, a successful writer met Casey in a Texas bar, he had no idea what it would lead to.
This stunning cowgirl could ride an electric bull better than most men in in a popular Saloon and had her pick of any of them.
And yet, she chose Harry.
As their relationship began to develop, she told him her deepest, darkest secret. She admitted that she was an ancient witch with a large number of erotic fetishes.
But while Harry worked to come to terms with Casey's blistering lifestyle, she began to change him in ways he would never have expected and pulling him into a series of extremely intimate challenges.
.
Some Previews...
"Darling?" she asked as we lay there sweating, "Was it alright? I mean… I know sometimes," she hesitated and then continued, "I can get kind-of carried away. So… Was it really, alright?"
Our eyes met as I struggled to find the perfect words.
It had been a truly intense love session. When she got started, it was like riding a bucking bronco in a rodeo. Maybe, more like one of those electric bulls at Tawney's.
.
"No…" she said, "Really… I am a spell-casting, broom-flying, cauldron-stirring witch. Although, I haven't gotten on a broom in nearly three hundred years or for that matter ever stirred a cauldron. But I'm pretty good at spells."
Again, I stared at her. I watched her nervously shift on her chair.
"No," she finally said, "and I'm not crazy… Been doing the witch thing all my life."
I watched in silence as she continued to pick at the last of her snapper.
Finally, she set her fork down and looked up to me and blurted out, "Please don't think ill of me. Once before I met someone who I really cared about and that was a long time ago. Harry… Please don't dismiss this. I really care for you and this isn't a fantasy."
"Fantasy?" I questioned, "Why would this be a fantasy?"
"Well often, witches will play with fantasies," she answered, "If for no other reason than they can."
.
"So you're Cassandra's new squeeze," came a tiny voice to my left.
I looked down to find a slight woman with a prune of a face. She must have been somewhere between eighty and five hundred years old.
"Quite a place isn't it?" she commented.
I glanced around again and nodded.
And before I could speak, she patted my belly saying, "I see she's already fattened you up. Our Casey does like to do that."
As we talked, she guided me to a table of horderves asking, "Did our Cassandra put an appetite in you? I expect so," she rattled on, "Were you skinny when she found you?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: JM Ross
• Release date: Jul 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393493310

JM Ross

I love it when my protagonist finds herself contending with an intimate partner or a force that will change her forever. What is she thinking as she looses control of her desires or her body or both? Did she want this to happen? Has it gone too far? Does she like it? How will it end? Will it end? The line between fantasy and reality is sometimes so very, very thin and I adore stepping into fantasy and staying there as long as I can. I hope you enjoy. Love JM

Book preview

Chapter 1

Darling? she asked as we lay there sweating, Was it alright?  I mean...  I know sometimes, she hesitated and then continued, I can get kind-of carried away.  So...  Was it really, alright?

Our eyes met as I struggled to find the perfect words.

It had been a truly intense love session.  When she got started, it was like riding a bucking bronco in a rodeo.  Maybe, more like one of those electric bulls at Tawney's.

Tawney's is the local western bar; live music every Friday and Saturday; Three electric bulls for the men who think they're man enough.  I tried one once.  Got tossed in seconds.

It was there that we met.  I’d seen her before in passing and had thought she was beautiful.  But then, so were most of the other girls who frequented the bull area.  It was almost as if those electric bulls were chick magnets drawing all the good lookers in to fawn over the macho bull riders.

Ya.  If you wanted to find a hot one-niter, this was the place to be.  But there were unwritten rules.  A guy had to be hard; either from farm work or working out.  However, muscle bound monsters didn’t make it here.  The bull women seemed to be looking for hard western men (real men).  The guys most in demand were the bull riders; the ones who could stay on for the full eight seconds.  If they made it to ten or came off by their own choice, they were heroes.  And that meant that all the hotties would worship them for the evening.

All that left me out.  I was content to drink my Lone Star and watch.  There were a few women who’d venture onto a bull and of those and fewer yet who could ride at the men’s level.

There was one that gossip claimed came from New York.  She was tall and thin and rode like a man; Perfect coordination and no fear.  She’d hold her hat in her free hand, long blond hair flying and then wait for the bull to completely stop before turning sideways and sliding down.

Then, the men would crowd around her and vie for her attention.  Her self confidence was disgustingly apparent.  She spoke to most of her admirers as if they were close friends.  Yet, few were ever invited to her table.

Every Saturday night, it was the same spectacle and a damn sight cheaper than buying a ticket to a hockey game.  Once, a few weeks ago, I saw those intense blue eyes of that blond glance in my direction.  That was enough for me.  It was pleasing to know that I was able to attract her attention even for a few seconds.

And so, the following week, I was surprised when a mountain of a man approached me.  I’d seen him with her before and had assumed that they had a relationship of some sort...  Boyfriend, bodyguard, whatever.  Not my concern.

He leaned close saying, Casey say she want to buy you a beer.

Who’s Casey? I answered.

He stared down at me as if my brain was badly wired. (Maybe it was.)

Ya know, he mumbled and leaned closer, The lady you been watching for da past two months.

My eyes moved to ‘her’ table and sure as little green apples, she was sitting there watching us.

She raised her Corona and smiled.

Why? I replied and instantly regretted my remark.

What I was actually thinking was, Why me?  I’m not a bull rider.  I’m not anything like the men she likes to hang with.

Cause, da lady ask to see you, this mountain mumbled in my ear as spittle landed on the side of my face.

A huge meaty paw took hold of my arm and began to lift me.  Instantly and without thinking, my military training kicked into gear.  My hand lashed out, grabbing the perfect finger and lifted.  Still without thinking, I twisted and pressed down.

This move was easy to apply and incredibly painful to the recipient.

I pressed down a little further.  With a low grunt, he began to kneel.  If I pressed harder, I could dislocate fingers or even break his wrist.  People on both sides of me turned to watch.

You’re done now? I whispered in his ear as my anger began to rise, Tell the lady, I’ll be over later...  Maybe.

I watched the huge man lumber back in disgrace as he rubbed his now tender wrist.  He leaned over her table and a conversation went on for a surprisingly long time.

Shit! I thought, An audience with the queen and I let my pride blow it.

But the entire time that they spoke and even now, her eyes remained locked on me.  Why had I become such a person of interest?

Finally, when my childish pride had been satisfied and curiosity had gotten the better of me, I wandered in her direction.  But now, she was talking to an admirer and yet, it was obvious she was aware of my approach.

She continued to talk with the man as she pulled a chair back that was obviously intended for me and as I sat, she dismissed her admirer.

I really need to apologize for Albert, she began as she turned to me, He just doesn’t understand that size and intelligence aren’t the same.  I shouldn’t have sent him over.

She studied my face for a few seconds and said, It’s Lone Star, isn’t it?

Our conversation began slowly and stiffly.  I learned that her name was Cassandra; Casey for short.  But with another beer, we began to find common ground and talked until closing time.

I drove her home with the agreement to meet for supper tomorrow.  The idea of a quick tumble that evening had seemed crass.  It was as if by mutual agreement we wanted to postpone our first intimacy for the next day.  But, both of us already knew that it was going happen.

I was enthralled by her poise and beauty and desperately hoped that my desire for her hadn’t been too obvious.

The plan was that I’d pick her up at eight that next night for a slow, very slow supper and then we’d see what would happen.

~~~~

Chapter 2

Two days later, I woke in an immense bed trimmed with lace and an array of colorful feminine touches.  It was as if I were lying in a queen’s boudoir from the 1800’s.  All that was missing was the canopy.

My clothes had been replaced with a long soft t-shirt that smelled of jasmine.

Then, I noticed steaming coffee and an array of pastries on the end table and a small note, I’m sorry my sweet but I had to go into town.  Your clothes are being cleaned and pressed and will be returned shortly.  I apologize for the nightshirt.  I should have thought ahead...  Next time, I’ll set out one of my nighties.  I like dressing my men in soft feminine things.  Supper here tonight...  Eight...  I hope?

Hmmm, I thought, My men?  Next time?  Supper here?  Guess I must have passed the first inspection... At least for now.

With a second cup of coffee and covered in the shirt, I began to wander.  The little house was set on a bluff overlooking a small lake.  The area was wooded with no other houses in sight.  I sat on the tiny deck and finished my coffee.

Inside, the furnishings were a mixture of antique and modern.  It was as if Casey were an old fashioned girl but couldn’t admit it.  However, some of the old pieces were very old and probably quite expensive.  They were almost too valuable to use.  However, they did show considerable use.  Had she been an antique dealer at some time?

Shifting into my curious mode, I tried to peek into one of her closets but the doors wouldn’t open.  Possibly, there was a hidden lock.  But it wasn’t simply the closet doors.  Many doors throughout her cottage refused to open for me.

Now bored, I returned to the bedroom to find a tall slender man making the bed.  My clothes were arranged on a nearby chair.

Without looking up he said, My lady wishes to have supper with you tonight at eight.  It will be coat and tie, this evening.  Would that be satisfactory sir?

Feeling self conscious and not knowing what else to say, I mumbled, I suppose.

Instantly, he stopped and turned toward me showing concern and asked, Is something wrong?  Have I offended...

I forced a smile and shook my head no as I squeezed into clothing that seemed to have shrunk; Especially my jeans.  Yet later, they expanded to fit again.  Curious...

That evening, the manservant greeted me at the door and took me to a lower level deck.  Minutes later, I turned to see my cowgirl dressed in an incredibly elegant, full-length, evening gown.  With her hair done up, she swept onto the deck as if she were coming to a ball.  The scent of jasmine preceded her and filled my senses and then my mind.

She walked up to me and gave me a formal kiss as if we’d been married for twenty years and turned to take my arm.

I believe our supper is waiting my love, she said and slid her hand round my arm.

This lower deck circled around the house to another room.  There, we found a table covered with white linen, candles burning and the wine poured.

I seated my stunning host and then sat across from her.  The view of the last rays of the sunset was breathtaking.

Your gown is spectacular, I said softly, I feel under-dressed.

But, she shook her head saying, It was a last minute thought.  I haven’t worn it in years and just had the urge.

Is it an original?

She nodded saying, If I remember correctly, it was made for me in 1830 in France.

That didn’t make sense at all.

I was about to ask what she meant when she raised her glass saying, To us and to this evening and later.

We touched our glasses as she continued, And much later, I want you to let my hair down and take me over and over as if tomorrow might never come.  I want you to ravish me until I’m speechless and out of breath and we see the first ray of sunlight shining in.

And so, our destiny had been set.

The wine was ‘Louis Jadot,’ French Chablis.

Minutes later, Casey’s man served Lobster Newburg on a bed of rice with a side of freshly steamed asparagus.

I watched this amazing woman cut and eat dainty bites.  This cowgirl’s manners were impeccable.  She’d become shy