Wanton Wicked Whanda

Whanda hit the alarm and slowly opened her eyes – stretched out like a cat – “Really do not feel like getting up this morning” Eventually she slowly fought off the duvet, and got out of bed. Night times smells hit her senses – sweat, sleep and s*x – the latter making a big fat grin stretch out across her face. Good magical s*x – he has no idea; believes he is a super stallion postman!!! Dreary grey skies greet her when she pulls back the curtains, a rumble of her tummy. “hmmmm it would seem that s*x has build up an appetite again, happened last time too, interesting concept!” Good s*x = bad hair day as the image from the mirror stares back at her – crap, what was she going to do with that? Despite the glorious s*x her bed, her room, her house is empty of company this morning other than her beautiful black cat called potions – nice little arrangement for silence!!! Being a witch in a modern world has its drawbacks – sometimes you just got to spread the magic, you just cannot help it – one can get carried away! These non witchical beings and their lives really are very dull. Before stepping into the shower, with a wave of her bathroom wand, the sudden noise of pots and pans in the kitchen as breakfast is prepared. Another tap of her wand (a wand in every room don’t you know!!) and the steam from the shower turned fragrant, the bathroom ceiling turned blue with twinkling stars. One thing the non witchical beings had got right, the shower facility. A few extra tweaks and it is almost perfect Hot, steamy with magical hands massaging her neck and shoulders, heaven. The smell of hot chocolate and the sound of sizzling sausages hits her senses, “yummmmmm”. She steps out of the shower and allows the soft fluffy towels to do their work (another mean potion discovered in the Weekly World of the Modern-Day Witch). Dressed in her non witchical beings’ uniform for the day (“what a palaver, Grandma talks fondly of the days when her Grandma could just throw on a cloak and all good, done for the day”) Non Witchical beings like to make things complicated, especially the females! With a flick of her wand, Whanda floats off downstairs, why use the stairs when you don’t need to! Breakfast is all ready and set on the table for her, sausages, poached egg, toast, hot chocolate and freshly squeezed orange juice……I will have to check that spell, sticky juice is everywhere there must be a glitch! At least I remembered to pull all the curtains, last night, the hunky postman and the glorious s*x last night was a result of getting laxsidazical. I came down one morning to find my sexy postman glued to the window watching my breakfast being prepared – nightmare. But ever one to find the good in a bad situation I turned it round it was the only thing I could do, what else is a modern-day witch to do with such a glorious specimen of a non witchical man!!! “I think I am going to have to end it soon, same body too many times even with my wonderful wand can get, well samey! I will have to cook up a potion tonight to wipe his memory, such a shame”. “There will be others though, I have given many men the time of their lives, its such a shame and such a waste that they will never remember!!!” “Crap, going to be late, so tempting shall I call Brenda Broomstick, no no Whanda, behave………” “Off I go to my ‘job’, on the number 69 bus!!! Sometimes I can make time speed up, but only if I am feeling very naughty!!! God that place, it drives me nuts”. “If I hear one more joke about a fish called Whanda I may have to call on my magical powers again – apparently a film was made called a Fish called Whanda, must watch it on Netflix’s see what amuses everybody about my name.” “Why is Whanda the Wonder Witch working in late 1980’s accounts office……..well not what I planned or what was forecast for me way back when by the founding concern of witches/my ancestors, but hey ho life never goes according to plan, not even for us Witches…….”. So on and so on another Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday rolls along…Wednesday night on the number 69 got interesting…Every stop the bus made, one of those funny little ‘rascal’ vans appeared behind the bus. It seems to be following the bus and stopping with the bus. Blue in colour with a funny looking little man behind the steering wheel. He is making my toes curl which is never a good sign, I know him from somewhere but not recent times, past times way way back times where from though? It’s never usually good when something or someone appears from my past. It always troubles me, there are so few of us left now from past past past times. I can’t remember everyone especially not everyone that I have screwed! The trouble with living for so many centuries through so many different lives is that this can happen. The humans just sail through life blinkered by their egos, their headphones, their various addictions to social media, tv and music. Angela at work was relaying how funny it was she drove her motor vehicle all the way home without remembering the journey but what was worse was the amount of people in the office who agreed that they do this a lot!! And they found it funny to be so dense, clueless, witless, funny for goodness sake!!! Something the foundling concern of witches always taught us was to always keep all of our senses about us , listen to our witchy tingles! This weaselly looking man in his rascal van what does he want? Who is he??? Suddenly the bus rocked side to side a loud whooooosh and he was in front of me, Mr weasel man himself! I looked around the bus everyone was still, frozen. Ohhh goodness how irresponsible Terence the Terrible had become, that’s it, that’s his name!! Standing before me in all his naked glory,with,ohh my goodness, I’d forgotten how big his c**k is! Standing fully erect with pre come jism oozing out the end pulsing and jumping around to its own beat. “Alright Whanda”! “Even after all the centuries you still go down as the best c**k sucker!!” With that he grabbed my head and pulled it down towards his c**k. I opened my mouth eagerly, I was not going to let an opportunity like this pass me by even though I knew we were breaking so many witch rules and promises. My fanny was running like the rivers of Babylon, my n*****s were picking up radio transmissions and yes I was drooling actually drooling. I slid my mouth slowly down the shaft of his c**k then back up, Terry was panting and howling just like the wolf bastard he was! Just the way I like them, putty in my hands. Faster and faster I slid my mouth up and down his extremely large member. Sometimes he held me at his balls, by mouth full, gagging. The whole bus load of humans frozen around us. My God it is so damn kinky, I have complete control of this man, suddenly Terry freezes gives the loudest howl which surely the wolf pack the other side of the universe can hear and explodes, comes thick white spunk into my mouth but there is too much and it spills out of my mouth, down my chin down my neck into my blouse, my bra, hot sticky thick salty spunk, pumping, pumping I didn’t think it was going to stop. Terry kept grabbing my head, forcing his c**k back into my mouth so that his thick come would go down my throat, me gagging and gagging but loving every minute. “Right Whanda b***h next time Iam coming back with the pack and it won’t be just your throat that will be sore” And he was gone…the people on the bus resumed what they had been doing and the bus pulled away. I pulled out a mirror from my bag was that just a filthy fantasy - ohh bloody hell not from the look on my face, streaming eyes, thick white dried on spunk all over my face… I had no choice a quick quiet lick and a promise spell and face looked cleaned, eyes sorted. Can’t do anything about the smile on my face though, ohhh and my very wet knickers!! When I got to my stop I jumped of the bus as fast as my jelly legs could carry me, let myself in, straight upstairs and found my magic dildo, “f**k I need this” pulled up my skirts and just ripped a whole in these stupid human tights and pressed my dildo to my c**t. •Fuck I came like one of those old steam trains huffing and puffing, screaming to the last stop. When I had recovered and come back into the land of now, I stripped off, my bra was still dripping with Terry’s come, and jumped in the shower, my witchy senses still tingling and the biggest smile on my face which no amount of potions or spells could remove.