Witch Hunt, Burned at the Stake 3

Having sex with a witch is better than having sex with a stripper, a call girl, your mother, or your mother-in-law.

“My place?”

He looked at her as if he was imagining what he thought he heard her say.

“Yes,” she said running a slow tongue across her lips.

She gave him a sexy look that told him that he heard her correctly. Just to make sure that he didn’t misunderstand her intentions, he asked the obvious question.

“For sex?”

He looked at her as if she was his dream woman or his worst nightmare. He had no idea which.

“Yes,” she said.

Rolling the dice, taking the gamble, going all in, and going for broke, if she was going to kill him, what better way to die than to die in her arms while having sex with her?

“Wow,” he involuntarily blurted as if he was a teenager getting laid for the first time. Actually, never having had sex with a witch before and not knowing what to expect, his mind was a myriad of sexual positions and possibilities.

“You do have somewhere to take me where you live and where we can have sex, don’t you?” She looked at him and smiled her sexy grin. “You don’t actually live in your car, do you?”

“Yes, no, of course, but what about your cat? We shouldn’t leave him there. Should we go back to collect him?”

He turned to look at the cat that was no longer sitting on her car hood as if it was a life sized, feline, hood ornament.

“My cat? That’s so nice of you worry about my pet but he’s already here,” she said turning to her cat sitting in the backseat. “Come to Mommy, Satan,” she said. The cat jumped from the backseat to sit in her lap while staring at Robert with its big, yellow eyes.

Robert looked at the cat while wondering how in the Hell he could get in a car that had its doors and windows closed.

“Meow!”

More of a dog lover than a cat lover, feeling frightened by the cat, Robert remained silent while staring at her. Now figuring that she was a witch, a real witch, he didn’t know what to do. Yet, she couldn’t be a witch. How could she be a witch? There’s no such thing as witches, is there?

Not that he’s ever seen a witch before but he’s never seen a witch who looks like her. It was Shakespeare who set the stage that all witches are evil and ugly when he wrote about the three witches in Macbeth. Witches are supposed to be ugly and scary like the Witch of the East in the Wizard of Oz. Yet, if all witches looked like Flora Radisson, he wouldn’t be afraid of witches. Yet, then again, perhaps not all witches are bad.

There’s the good and the beautiful witch who appeared in the Wizard of Oz, the Witch of the North. Hermione Granger of Harry Potter is a good witch. John Updike’s novel, the Witches of Eastwick, all had good Rhode Island witches played in the movie by Cher, Susan Sarandon, and Michele Pfeiffer. In Homer’s, The Odyssey, his witch, Circe, was a good witch albeit getting a bad rap for turning men into what they truly already are, pigs.

“You mentioned something about a promise and a curse,” he said feeling nervously anxious to know what she meant.

“Yes, that bloody, forsaken curse. Ugh, that’s going to haunt me for the rest of my days on Earth. Haven’t you ever said something that you regretted when you were angry?” She looked at him as if she already knew all the answers to her questions and obviously she did. “Why do you ask about the promise and the curse?”

“Being that today is the fateful day of a curse that was made upon my family three hundred and twenty-one years ago, you’re freaking me out, especially with your black cat suddenly appearing from out of nowhere,” he said wanting to but not daring to pet the cat.

“Don’t worry about the curse. The curse is practically over,” she said waving a disinterested hand. “Besides, if you take the meaning figuratively instead of literally, the curse states that you will fall for me. You’re the lawyer, counselor. Figure it out. You tell me. What does falling for me actually mean?”

“Sorry, I’m not following you,” he said now more concerned with Satan staring at him than her staring at him.

“Falling for me could have a double meaning. It could mean you falling dead at my hands or it could mean you falling in love with me,” she said cackling again.

If there was one thing that he didn’t like about her, it was that damn cackle. How someone so beautiful could laugh so ugly was beyond his understanding of women, especially witches.

“Not even knowing how to respond to that, I don’t even know your name and you’re scaring me,” said Robert. “I haven’t even introduced myself.”

Robert gave her a half smile along with a limp-wristed handshake that she refused to accept.

“I apologize for scaring you. That wasn’t my intention and there’s no need for introductions Robert. I already know who you are. You’re family’s reputation precedes you,” she said looking down at his offered hand and rejecting it with an upward lift of her nose.

Having met all kinds of people in court, he’s never met anyone like her.

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” he said.

He looked at her in the way that he looked at a client to see if he was telling him the truth or lying.

“Sure you do. You mentioned it yourself about the curse. My name is Flora Radisson, the direct descendant of the witch Flora Radisson and you are Robert Hall, the direct descendant of Judge Robert Hall,” she said as if purring with her cat. “Am I right?”

“Oh my God. Indeed you are the wicked witch who’s going to—”

Panic attacked his being as if she was a tried and convicted murderess who had just escaped from prison and was out to get him.

“Yes, I’m going to make you fall for me,” she said cackling again. “I’m not going to hurt you Robert, trust me, that is, unless you’re into that sort of thing where you want me to whip you and discipline you while you’re tied to your bed,” she said with a dirty laugh. “As far as I’m concerned the curse is dead only—”

Dead? He didn’t hear the curse is dead part. He only focused on the word dead.

“Only what?”

He stared at her looking at him before turning his attention back to the road.

“To break the curse, you must make love to me,” she said leaning in her passenger seat to whisper in his ear while playing with his hair.

Make love to a witch? How does a mortal man, a normal man, albeit a very horny man, make love to a witch? All he could think of is her flying him around the world on a broomstick while making love at the pointy end of the broom handle.

“Make love to you? Seriously?”

Now he wished he had watched the Bewitched reruns instead of flipping by them to see how Darren made love to his wife, Samantha.

“Yes,” she said blowing in his ear and with a hand positioned on his upper thigh.

“Seriously, is that what this is all about? You want me to make love to you? You’re not going to kill me?”

“Yes,” she said moving her fingertips closer to his cock and actually touching his emerging erection through his pants. “That’s not to say that I still may kill you…if you don’t give me an orgasm,” she said cackling again.

She looked at him and smiled and with the cat purring and rubbing up against her shoulder, Satan looked as if he was smiling too.

“I can do that,” he said squirming in the driver’s seat and suddenly feeling pressured to sexually satisfy her.

“Unfortunately—”

“Unfortunately what? What? Tell me,” said Robert beginning to hyperventilate. “Oh God, oh God. What is it now? I knew there was the other shoe. I knew this was too good to be true with you aggressively seducing me, wanting to go home to my place, and to have sex with me.”

“Gees, calm down Bob,” she said laughing. “Do you always get this excited when a woman propositions you for sex or is it the curse that you’re more worried about?”

“You said unfortunately. I heard you say unfortunately. Unfortunately…unfortunately is bad. I’ve been an attorney long enough to know that unfortunately is always bad. Fortunately is good,” he said with a look of horror on his face. “I happen to like fortunately. I always look forward before hearing what good news that fortunately brings. I hate anything that begins with unfortunately,” he said hiding his face in his hands before remembering that he was driving the car and took hold of the wheel again.

“Take a breath and relax Robert. I’m not going to hurt you,” she said again this time with a soft smile.

Robert took a big breath and let out a huge sigh of air before continuing.

“You said that I’d have to make love to you to break the curse. Okay, that’s fine. I can do that but then you ended your solution to breaking the curse with unfortunately. Unfortunately what? Unfortunately if I don’t give you an orgasm, you’ll kill me? Is that it?”

“Unfortunately, you making love to me doesn’t always work the first time,” she said with a sinister smile while looking at her manicure as if she was suddenly bored with him.

“It doesn’t? Oh God. Why not? I can assure you, never having a complaint, I’m a good lover,” he said in his attempt to assure her that he could break the curse by making love to her and sexually satisfying her by giving her an orgasm with his fingers, his mouth, and his cock.

She patted his knee while smiling her assurance.

“If only judging you by your handsome outside appearance, I’m sure you are a very capable lover,” she said. “Only, being that this curse goes back so very far, we may have to make love more than once for us to break the curse,” she said.

Robert looked at her with as much sexual excitement as he did abject confusion.

“I see. Okay, I can do that,” he said getting even more sexually excited before falling silent in thought. “How many times must we, I mean, should we make love?”

He looked at her as if he was making a plea deal with the prosecuting attorney.

“Several…dozens of…hundreds of times, perhaps even thousands of times,” she said with a cackling laugh.

Thousands of times? Who makes love thousands of times? Not even married couples make love thousands of times, especially not married couples. The only people he knows who have made love thousands of times is Jack Nicholson and Cameron Diaz, separately and not with one another. One’s a whoremonger and the other one is a whore.

“Seriously?” He looked at her as if she was crazy. He looked at her as if she was off of her anti-depressant medication. “You really expect me to make love to you thousands of times to break the curse?”

He looked at her while gulping down his feeling of sexual pressure.

“Listen here Bobby, I’m only trying to help you but if you don’t want my help to break the—”.

“I do. I do. I want your help. I really want your help. Please, just tell me what to do,” he said.

“Even if we did make love thousands of times, the curse may still not break,” she said with sadness.

“Oh God,” he looked at her with panic. “Why not? I don’t understand. How can I not break the curse if I made love to you thousands of times after you just said that I needed to make love to you thousands of times?”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“Calm down Robert,” she said patting his knee again. “Sometimes to break the curse, in addition to making love to me, you must fuck me, really fuck me. You must really part my clam while pounding my pussy as if you’re hitting the curse with a sledge hammer with the speed of a jack hammer.”

Wow! Her words evoked the image of him moving up and down on her so fast that there was smoke coming out of her pussy before his cock caught fire. He looked at her, his Devil with the blue dress on, she was so beautiful. She was so sexy. Never had he ever seen a woman who looked like her.

“Wow,” he said imagining fucking her, really fucking her, and parting her clam while pounding her pussy with his cock moving in and out and in and out with the speed of a jack hammer. “I can do that,” he said nodding his head yes as if he needed that additional affirmation to convince her and himself that he was willing to do anything to break the curse, even if it meant that he had to fuck her hard and fast.

“Good,” she said abandoning her manicure to look at him with her big, blue eyes.

“I can fuck you. I can really fuck you. I can part your clam and pound your pussy with the speed of a jack hammer while making love to you. Let me try,” he said. “At least I’ll die trying. At least I’ll die happy,” he said raising his voice as if cheering for his beloved Red Sox at Fenway Park.

“Alas…”

“Alas? Oh no, no alas,” said Robert. “No, please don’t say alas. I beg you not to say alas. Alas is just as bad if not worse than unfortunately. No one says alas anymore. What alas? Alas what?”

“Just as the curse states, the real way to break the curse is for you to fall in love with me, that is, unless you’d rather that I kill you. Truly, I’d much rather you fall in love with me than me having to kill you,” she said with sorrow.

“Fall in love with you?” He looked at her as if she was wearing a white dress and holding yellow roses while walking down the aisle before his vision of her was transformed with her wearing a black dress and carrying dead flowers. “Eventually over time, I think that I could fall in love with you,” he said with confidence. “Just look at you. You’re so stunning. Who wouldn’t fall in love with someone who looks like you?”

He smiled albeit nervously.

“Alas,” she said again.

His face turned ashen. His heartbeat quickened and his pulse raced. He felt dizzy. He felt as if he was about to pass out while driving his beloved Mustang GT.

“Alas what now?”

Wishing she would tell him some good news for him to calm himself, as if he was a defendant waiting to hear a guilty or innocent verdict, he impatiently waited until she told him what the alas meant.

“I don’t know how someone who looks like you could ever fall in love with someone who looks like me,” she said.

Is that it? Is that the alas? Not as bad as he thought. If that’s the alas, he could deal with that. All he needed to do was to assure her that he certainly could fall in love with her.

“Seriously Flora? Are you kidding me? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You’re drop dead gorgeous. You have the best body I’ve ever seen on a woman, bar none,” he said suddenly pausing in silence with an unspoken thought.

He looked at her looking at him while a look of fear replaced his look of happiness.

“What?” She looked at him as if she knew what he was about to ask him.

“I was just wondering…”

“Wondering what?”

“Have you ever seen the movie, The Shining with Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, the woman who played Olive Oyl in Popeye?”

“Of course I have. Just because I’m a witch doesn’t mean that I don’t watch movies,” she said laughing. “Of course I’ve seen that movie. Who hasn’t? I loved Jack Nicholson in the Witches of Eastwick,” she said swooning while clutching her hands to her breasts before looking at him with curiosity. “Why did you ask if I’ve seen the Shining?”

She looked at him with curiosity.

“Because in that movie was a witch that Jack thought was a beautiful woman and—”

Then, she looked at him with insightfulness.

“Oh, and you think that I’m really not who you perceive me to be. Is that it? You think that I’m some old hag of a woman with long, stringy hair, and moles all over my body.”

Hoping she didn’t put a spell on him for him to think that she was way more beautiful than she was, he needed to know what he was dealing with before getting in bed with her naked.

“Well, actually, yeah. You could have put a spell on me to make me believe you are stunningly gorgeous,” he said.

She looked at him as if he was a troubled child who needed motherly guidance.

“Answer me this Bob,” she said. “Do you think that I put a spell on all of those horny men who drove by me on the road while leering, making sexual comments, and beeping their horns at me because I was wiggling my ass and showing them some leg? You saw how many men were staring at me. Did you think that they were under my spell too?”

Even with him being an attorney, unable to argue that, she did make a good point.

“Okay, okay, you’re beautiful now but after I fall in love with you, will you change into the bitch that you really are?”

Oh, oh, he couldn’t believe that he just called this witch a bitch. He silently prayed to God that he didn’t piss her off to make her turn him into a toad or worse, a Republican.

“A bitch? Me change into a bitch? How could I possibly change into a bitch when I’m already a total bitch now to be sitting here with you in your car after three hundred and twenty-one years,” she said.

“You do make a good point,” he said contemplating her answer while falling silent. “Is that how old you really are, three hundred and twenty-one years?”

She smiled at him in the way that Gwen Close smiled at Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction before trying to stab him to death.

“Don’t be foolish Robert. I’m much older than that,” she said cackling again.

Older than three hundred twenty-one years? How the Hell old is this woman? He could only imagine the musky aroma of a pussy that has aged for hundreds of years.

“How much older, a couple of years, decades, centuries?” He looked at her with renewed fright. “Go ahead. You can tell me. Nothing can top the fact that you’re the witch Flora Radisson.”

“Hasn’t your mother taught you anything Robert? You never ask a woman her age and you never ask a woman her weight,” she said punctuating her message with the point of her manicured index finger in his muscled chest with the attitude of a black diva.

“Sorry,” he said. “I humbly withdraw my question. I’m content to believe that you are as hold as you look and you look thirty-something,” he said met with an angry look. “I mean, twenty-something to me,” he said this time met with a smile.

“For your information, let’s just say that I wasn’t born yesterday. A gross understatement,” she said cackling. “In actuality, I am much older than three hundred and twenty-one years,” she said tossing her flaming red hair and smiling.

Never having made love to an older woman, the cougar from Hell, she was the cougar to beat all other cougars.

“Wow! I bet you could tell me some things,” he said. “I bet you could teach me some things.”

He thought of all the unanswered historical questions that he had but decided just to concentrate his focus on having sex with her.

“You have no idea all the things that I can tell you and teach you,” she said looking at him with her big, blue eyes while putting her hand on the bulge in his pants and allowing her fingertips to tease his cock through his pants. “Let’s cut to the chase counselor. For you to break the curse, you not only must have sex with me but also you must fall in love with me. Moreover, for you to break the curse you not only must marry me but also you must give me a child.”

Worse than death, as if his life as a bachelor had come to a tragic and sudden end, he looked at her with fright.

“Holy shit! Love, marriage, and a child? Talk about pressure,” he said. “I just may have you kill me right here,” he said making an ill-conceived joke, especially when the cat let out a low growl while lashing out with its claw.

The scariest sound he’s ever heard in his life, he had no idea that cats can growl.

“I’m counting on you Robert,” she said.

xxxxx

“Okay. Wait. So, lemme get this straight,” said Robert looking back and forth from the road to look at her. “Not only do you want to have sex with me but also you want me to marry you and give you a child. Is that correct?”

He looked at her in stone, cold silence while waiting for her to answer.

“Yes, that’s correct. That’s what I said,” she said.

Being that he was a lawyer and accustomed to finding legal loopholes, he tried to think of a loophole to avoid having sex with her, falling in love with her, marrying her, and giving her his child. Then, after he looked at her again, who wouldn’t want to have sex with her, fall in love with her, marry her, and give her their child.

“Do I have a choice?”

Deep down, removing the pressure of him having to make the wrong decision, he hoped she’d say no and was relieved when she did.

“Choice?” She made a sour face as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. “There’s no choices with curses. You’ve been cursed, not you personally but indirectly by me cursing your ancestor,” she said.

“What or who are you?” He looked at her as if she was Michael Keaton playing Batman and he was a burglar being held in his hand before being dropped from a roof. “How can anyone still be alive after being burnt at the stake,” he said looking at her with fright. “How can someone return after being dead or gone for three hundred twenty-one years? This can’t be happening to me.”

He looked at her as if he was dreaming and/or imagining her.

“I’m a witch silly. Duh? I can do things that you can’t even understand,” she said with a shrug. “Fortunately for you, in the way of your fairy godmother, I’m your good witch,” she smiled while looking out the car window. “A friendly warning though, just don’t get on my bad side,” she gave him a look of evilness.

He looked at her as if she was one of the Witches of Eastwick who was about to make a doll in his image and put feathers on it before sticking him over and again with a needle.

“Seriously Flora, from all the men in the world, why would you want to marry me when you could have anyone? Yeah, you could marry someone richer, smarter, younger, brighter or—”

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want anyone but you. I chose you,” she said squeezing his cock through his pants. “I want you. Having thought about this for three hundred and twenty-one years, I love you Robert.”

Except for his crazy ex-girlfriend Cynthia who tried to set his condo on fire when she thought he was cheating on her because he was always working late, no one has ever said that they love him. Hoping he wasn’t jumping from the frying pan in the fire, Flora would have to go a long way to be as crazy as was Cynthia.

“Love me?” He looked down at her hand squeezing his cock before focusing more on the road. He had an immediate erection to her touch and the harder he got the more she fondled his cock through the material of his trousers. “How can you love me when you don’t even know me?”

“Oh, I know you. I know everything about you,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time. You were meant for me,” she said looking at him and smiling. “By the way, I shouldn’t have to tell you this but, as a friendly warning, don’t ever cheat on me with another woman,” she removed her hand from his cock to examine her fingernails. “What I’d do to you and to her wouldn’t be nice.”

“Meow,” said Satan sitting in the backseat again as if he was a wealthy cat being chauffeured around the city.

“But,” said Robert, “and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way Flora,” he said looking from her back to the road.

Afraid to tell her for fear that she may turn him into an idiot or a Republican Congressman, he needed to be honest with her. Willing to suffer the consequence now, better now than later, maybe she’d be lenient with him.

“Yes? What is it?”

He paused in his indecision to tell her. Yet, figuring she already knew, he’d rather be open with her than to lead her on and lie to her.

“I don’t love you,” he blurted. “Please don’t turn me into a frog. Please don’t turn me into a Republican. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t kill me.”

She surprised him when she laughed a normal human laugh instead of her witchy cackling laugh.

“Robert you watch way too many movies. Do you believe everything that you see on the big screen? I have powers but I don’t have superpowers. All that I have are from my potions, spells, and curses. I am nothing without my knowledge learned from my big, black book and all the things that I’ve seen through my crystal ball,” she said.

“Sorry, forget that I said that I don’t love you. I do love you, I think. I could love you, one day,” he said.

He looked at her with fear while she looked at him with love.

“I’m not going to hurt you Robert. I can never hurt the one that I love,” she said feeling his erection through his pants again that had suddenly gone soft with his fright. “Even if you don’t feel love for me now, you will. All that I need to do for you to fall in love with me if to kiss you. I love you.”

She unzipped him and moved her hand inside of his pants to take hold of him and to pull out his flaccid cock.

“Gees, Flora, what are you doing? I’m an officer of the court. This is my neighborhood. This is where I live,” he said struggling to remove his cock from her clutches. “Someone may see you.”

“Don’t you want me to suck you a little bit? I can make you feel better,” she said running a slow tongue across her red, full lips. “I can elicit the passion that you’ll need now to fuck the Hell out of me later.”

“I’m sure that you can. I don’t doubt that at all,” he said looking from her, down to her hand, and back to the road, “but not now and certainly not here in public. I’m nearly home. Can’t you wait just a little longer to elicit the passion that I need to fuck the Hell out of you later?”

xxxxx

Robert drove home with Flora and Satan. Still unsure if she was going to kill him, turn him into something, or just make love to him, he trusted her enough to believe that the curse would soon be dead once he made love to her. Not wanting to impregnate her, at least until he fell in love with her and married her, he wondered if he had any condoms at the house.

As soon as he unlocked, opened, closed his front door, and reached around to turn off his alarm, she turned to him and kissed him in a way that he’s never been kissed before. An amazing first kiss, he heard bells. He heard music. He felt more than just sexual desire and lustful passion for her. He felt love. He was in love with Flora. How can this happen?

In less than a minute, just as was stated in her curse, “I’ll whisper my words in his ear. For me, your kin will fall. His name is Robert Hall,” he fell for Flora.

Is him falling in love with her from the curse? If it was, he didn’t care. Having never felt love for a woman before, not even for his beloved Cynthia, especially for his beloved Cynthia, he was in love with Flora now. With just one kiss, he was in love with her. He loved her. He loved Flora.

“Take off your clothes,” she said. “I haven’t had sex in three hundred twenty-one years.”

Scaring him that someone could go more than three centuries without sexual satisfaction when he couldn’t go more than a day without masturbating himself, he looked at her with frightful trepidation.

“Wouldn’t you like something to drink first?”

Trying to think what a witch would drink, he tried to think what he had in the house to serve her. Being that she has red hair and is a witch, perhaps her preferred drink is a Red Witch cocktail. Only, he didn’t have any Pernod, blackcurrant cordial, or cider in the house.

Maybe she drinks Black Magic Shooters but he didn’t have any coffee liqueur either. Aha! How about a Witch’s Moon, but he didn’t have Amaretto or Grand Mariner either. If only he had some pumpkin spice liqueur he could make her a Pumpkin Patch Witch. Unfortunately, in addition to Grand Mariner, he’d never peach Schnapps and champagne to make her a Glenda the Good Witch drink. If only he had Kahlua he could make her a Witch’s Tit. Perfectly appropriate for her, if only he had white rum and black Sambuca, he could make her a Wet Witch.

“Nothing for me,” she said.

“I have beer,” he said. “How about a nice, cold beer with a slice of lemon?”

She gave him an annoyed look and leered at him as if he was crazy.

“No alcohol for me thanks. Alcohol interferes with my spells and conjuring,” she said with a feigned and impatient smile. “I just want to see you naked,” she said putting her finger to her lips in the way that Samantha in Bewitched put her finger to her nose.

Good God, the witch wants to see me naked. He couldn’t help but think that she wanted to cut off his cock or remove her testicles in the way that so many politicians don’t have any testicles needed to get anything done in Washington.

“I have cheese and crackers that I could—”

As if there was a storm brewing in his living room resplendent with a black cloud and lightning and thunder, she told him what she wanted.

“Fuck me Robert! Make me your witchy bitch,” she said loud enough to make the house shake. “Now get naked.”

Not even having to wiggle her nose in the way that Samantha had to in Bewitched, as soon as she said that, as if he was dreaming it, he was standing there naked.

“How did you do that?”

He looked down at himself before looking up at her.

“I’m a witch dummy. I can do anything,” she said with a shrug. “Later, after we have sex, I’ll have Chinese food delivered without even having to call them,” she said with a smile. “Do you want me to get naked too?”

Not wanting her to spoil his sexy fun, he’d rather slowly undress her than to have her suddenly appear before him naked in the way that he appeared before her naked.

“Actually, I’m kind of an old fashioned romantic. If you don’t mind, I’d rather undress you while kissing you,” he said.

He couldn’t wait to see what she looked like beneath her clothes.

“Whatever floats your boat,” she said. Availing herself to his horny hands and hungry lips, she stepped closer to him. “So long as you give me hot sex, I want you to fuck me in the way you’ve never fucked anyone before.”

Feeling conspicuous standing there naked, nonetheless, he took her in his arms and kissed her. Kissing and kissing her, he felt her breasts through her blue dress and bra.

“With your beautiful red hair and big, blue eyes, I bet you’d look as great in a red dress and as sexy in a green dress as you do in this blue dress.”

As if she was a chameleon able to instantly change the colors of her skin to match her surroundings, she changed the color of her dress from blue to red to green.

“Which color do you prefer?”

“Blue. You look so hot in that royal blue dress,” he said thinking of the song again, Devil with the Blue Dress, Blue Dress on.

Then, in a blink of an eye, her dress, her bra, and her panties magically disappeared. With her long, red hair barely covering her big breasts, she was naked.

THE END OF CHAPTER THREE