on a whole lot more than seein’ some ass,” Ryan Petress said. The team’s split end.
“Yeah, Ryan, what’re you thinkin’?”
“I’m thinkin’ we’re raidin’ their hot witchy asses.” That set off a cheer.
“Yeah, nobody ever recognize you.”
“It’s dark.”
“Ain’t that dark, bro. Full fucking moon. Let’s just get up there, see what happens. Hey, they may be rapin’ us. ”
They set off like they were possessed, except for Carl, dragging ass like always. Got de moves of a potted plant.
The team settled down, but the trees went off like .22s every time an arm or a shoulder caught a branch.
“Watch your goddamn step,” Jason hissed. “You want them throwin’ on their panties before we get there?”
“Long as we get to tear the fuckers off,” Ryan said.
Carl laughed, but like he had to.
Jason scrabbled up to where the trail fed onto the ridge, and crept to the overlook.
Holy fucking boom dogs, mon. They were all starting to stand, turning this way and that, really showing off their snatches. Giving him a crotchful, thanks to Mr. Moon. Couldn’t be more than a hundred, hundred fifty feet away down in the clearing. Twenty of ’em, at least.
Shit. Some were guys, including the one with the butt that had caught Jason’s eyes.
“Hey, Carl, check it out,” he whispered. “There’s your boyfriend,” he said, pointing to the dude Jason had wanted to ream till he figured out the owner of that firm round ass had a goddamn dick.
Now he could see the girl who’d fucked his brother, moonlight splashing all over her tits and tattoos. Fucking whore. Killer whore.
“We got to get closer,” Jason said, drawn in by the raw excitement of so much willing pussy. Beside him, Ryan was panting and Bert was almost drooling, staring like a starving squirrel.
* * *
Forensia brushed bits of dry grass off her legs and bottom, more conscious of her nudity now that she was standing and could feel eyes on her. Richtor’s, yes, but other Pagans, too, about half of them witches. She didn’t blame any of them for looking—she would have, in their place. Still, all those eyes on her … it felt like a million. Not that she was self-conscious about her appearance. She worked hard on the farm. Her arms, legs, back, all showed her strength, and her belly was tight and narrow.
GreenSpirit stepped naked from the shadows and raised her arms before them.
Oh my God, Forensia almost exclaimed aloud. It’s her . It’s really her.
Heart Warrior had intimated that a high priestess would conduct the initiation, but GreenSpirit herself? The rumors about her being around had been true, after all. GreenSpirit had been known to suddenly appear at such ceremonies, but Forensia had refused to let herself hope that the Wiccan leader would show up at her own initiation.
The tall woman stepped into the circle of power, her back to the altar. Her eyes roamed the gathering: almost two dozen devoted followers. She was naked but for a beaded necklace with a wooden ankh, the same symbol Forensia had tattooed on her shoulder. And GreenSpirit’s face glowed in the moonlight, lean as her long limbs, and as serious as the spiritual practice she had long embraced.
“Shall we begin?” With a brief wave of her hand, GreenSpirit drew Forensia and Sang-mi into the circle and made them kneel before her. With another gesture, she banished the Pagans who were not witches, including Richtor, to a natural amphitheater hidden in the trees beyond the far side of the clearing. Heart Warrior had instructed them to conduct a silent ritual in support of the two young initiates.
Forensia felt the lingering intensity of the woman’s gaze even after GreenSpirit turned to study Sang-mi. She thought the witch had a handsome face, a commanding presence. GreenSpirit had reportedly spent her adult life moving from coven to coven, nation to nation, making mysterious visits to powerful men and women, and occasionally speaking in
“Yeah, Ryan, what’re you thinkin’?”
“I’m thinkin’ we’re raidin’ their hot witchy asses.” That set off a cheer.
“Yeah, nobody ever recognize you.”
“It’s dark.”
“Ain’t that dark, bro. Full fucking moon. Let’s just get up there, see what happens. Hey, they may be rapin’ us. ”
They set off like they were possessed, except for Carl, dragging ass like always. Got de moves of a potted plant.
The team settled down, but the trees went off like .22s every time an arm or a shoulder caught a branch.
“Watch your goddamn step,” Jason hissed. “You want them throwin’ on their panties before we get there?”
“Long as we get to tear the fuckers off,” Ryan said.
Carl laughed, but like he had to.
Jason scrabbled up to where the trail fed onto the ridge, and crept to the overlook.
Holy fucking boom dogs, mon. They were all starting to stand, turning this way and that, really showing off their snatches. Giving him a crotchful, thanks to Mr. Moon. Couldn’t be more than a hundred, hundred fifty feet away down in the clearing. Twenty of ’em, at least.
Shit. Some were guys, including the one with the butt that had caught Jason’s eyes.
“Hey, Carl, check it out,” he whispered. “There’s your boyfriend,” he said, pointing to the dude Jason had wanted to ream till he figured out the owner of that firm round ass had a goddamn dick.
Now he could see the girl who’d fucked his brother, moonlight splashing all over her tits and tattoos. Fucking whore. Killer whore.
“We got to get closer,” Jason said, drawn in by the raw excitement of so much willing pussy. Beside him, Ryan was panting and Bert was almost drooling, staring like a starving squirrel.
* * *
Forensia brushed bits of dry grass off her legs and bottom, more conscious of her nudity now that she was standing and could feel eyes on her. Richtor’s, yes, but other Pagans, too, about half of them witches. She didn’t blame any of them for looking—she would have, in their place. Still, all those eyes on her … it felt like a million. Not that she was self-conscious about her appearance. She worked hard on the farm. Her arms, legs, back, all showed her strength, and her belly was tight and narrow.
GreenSpirit stepped naked from the shadows and raised her arms before them.
Oh my God, Forensia almost exclaimed aloud. It’s her . It’s really her.
Heart Warrior had intimated that a high priestess would conduct the initiation, but GreenSpirit herself? The rumors about her being around had been true, after all. GreenSpirit had been known to suddenly appear at such ceremonies, but Forensia had refused to let herself hope that the Wiccan leader would show up at her own initiation.
The tall woman stepped into the circle of power, her back to the altar. Her eyes roamed the gathering: almost two dozen devoted followers. She was naked but for a beaded necklace with a wooden ankh, the same symbol Forensia had tattooed on her shoulder. And GreenSpirit’s face glowed in the moonlight, lean as her long limbs, and as serious as the spiritual practice she had long embraced.
“Shall we begin?” With a brief wave of her hand, GreenSpirit drew Forensia and Sang-mi into the circle and made them kneel before her. With another gesture, she banished the Pagans who were not witches, including Richtor, to a natural amphitheater hidden in the trees beyond the far side of the clearing. Heart Warrior had instructed them to conduct a silent ritual in support of the two young initiates.
Forensia felt the lingering intensity of the woman’s gaze even after GreenSpirit turned to study Sang-mi. She thought the witch had a handsome face, a commanding presence. GreenSpirit had reportedly spent her adult life moving from coven to coven, nation to nation, making mysterious visits to powerful men and women, and occasionally speaking in
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