ex girlfriend

This is the second part of the story of Mia’s and Paul’s life together.



***



The next day, I quit my job.



Mia and I spent the remainder of the previous day brainstorming ideas about what we could or should do with our life together that would sufficiently respect and honor the gift we’d been given. When there is very little that you absolutely HAVE to do to survive in life, there is a moral obligation to devote your time to something meaningful. Mia has arguably one of the most powerful abilities in the history of, well, history and she had been generous with it to a fault. There was simply no chance that she could stop sharing her ability with the world in some way or other.



All of our basic needs were met, a thousand times over. In fact, pretty much any non-basic need or frivolous want could be met by Mia. There were literally billions of people in the world, however, who could not say the same. On the first day we met, Mia explained that her ability to manipulate and create positive energy had its limits. While the pool of such energy in the universe is limitless, she as a conduit and a vessel was not; I have seen her do mind-boggling feats of what appeared to the uninformed eye as pure magic but she is ultimately limited in scope by what she can control with her otherwise human mind and body. So, as potentially wonderful – or potentially catastrophic – as making wholesale changes to, for example, global climate change or military aggression night be, it was simply not within Mia’s ability to effect those changes. So, to do the most good with what we had, we embraced the popular rallying cry: “Think Global, Act Local.” What could we do right where we were to make life better for the deserving around us in addition to enjoying our own lives?



There was the added twist to the discussion that, unlike Mia who brings her awesome ability to the equation, I had no extraordinary abilities (unless you counted an MBA from a second tier business school as “extraordinary”). Mia never said it aloud but she knew that being the “faithful sidekick” to her “superhero” would become frustrating over time for me. As such, she consistently brought the conversation back around to what “we” could do, partners with a role to play. I had no illusion that mine would be an equivalent contribution but we both knew that I needed to be needed. I knew that Mia needed me, loved me, and would do anything to make me happy so we set about the task of finding a vocation for us that would:



1. Do some good for the world around us



2. Take advantage of Mia’s abilities



3. Provide a meaningful role for me



4. Not expose Mia’s abilities to the world



That last one was something I hadn’t considered much until we started the whole conversation. If the world at large knew about Mia’s ability, she’d be in instant danger that even she might not be able to handle. Unsavory types – which included governments – would want to use Mia’s abilities to further their own agendas. Mia remembered all too vividly the pain she and her family endured when the people in her town learned of her ability. That was 400 years ago so at the time she was viewed as unholy, some kind of demon to be purged, but that didn’t stop a few enterprising pricks from trying to take advantage of her. If that’s what could happen 400 years ago, imagine what evil or cruelty was possible today. So, as if our task wasn’t complicated enough, we had to find a way to share Mia’s gift without letting the world know about Mia’s gift. It still makes my brain hurt thinking about it.



By the end of that day, we had no clear answers about our mission in life, but we had worked out a few other issues in the process. First, we both agreed that it would be wrong for me to simply vanish from my current life, especially if we were going to try and do some good locally. I had no living family, but I still had some friends, mostly from work, with whom I wanted to stay in touch. I had been acting admittedly very odd during my early months with Mia and my friends had become concerned. I was, at one point or other, morbidly depressed, ecstatically happy, manic, nervous, and generally distracted. I had indicated to them that I had “met someone” but cagily explained that she lived out of town but traveled here a lot and thus deflected any of the “when do we meet her?” pressure. But that could not go on forever. I would have to integrate Mia into my other life – and how odd was it for me that my previous 30-plus years had become my “other” life? – but also change my circumstances so as not to arouse any undue suspicion.



We decided to create a facade life. We would explain that Mia was relocating here and moving in with me. I would keep my apartment so I continued to have a real address. Mia’s identity in the world, and how she maintained it, was still something we hadn’t discussed, but it was important for me to remain on-the-grid so keeping a physical address was important. We developed a very simple backstory that Mia had worked for a philanthropic organization, traveling the world evaluating grant requests; Mia had free reign to fill in whatever details she wanted and I could plausibly act like I was hearing her stories for the first time along with everyone else. There was very little effort required for us to keep our story straight.



The final piece of the puzzle would be the announcement that Mia was going to start a business. The entrepreneur bug had bitten her and so she was leaving her job and evaluating her options. And since I was so smitten with her and swept up in her enthusiasm, I was going to join her.



So, the day after that conversation, the start of the “what are we going to do together” plotting and planning, I went into work and quit my job. I don’t think my employer was completely surprised, given the amount of time off I had been taking recently, but my friends were a bit taken aback. Especially when I told them about starting an as-yet undetermined business with Mia. I had not been known as much of a risk taker so they thought this was a bit out of character. I explained that Mia could be very persuasive (and how!) and that this was a great way for me to spend more time with her. I gave them the quick overview of our cover story and even promised them a dinner party at my apartment if they helped me move Mia in (which could easily be faked by Mia manifesting a truck full of clothes, girl furniture and knick-knacks). I then set about packing up my desk and headed out.



Ahhhh, Mia. Despite the fact that we had been very serious about avoiding undue attention to ourselves, she could not resist a bit of theatrics for the crowd. My two closest friends from work, Sam and Avery, helped me carry my personal items down to the curb and I would take a cab back to my apartment. No such luck. No sooner had we reached the street than a gleaming snow-white Bentley roared down the street and pulled up in front of me and my two slack-jawed friends. At the wheel of the Bentley was an inordinately large breasted redhead wearing a low cut blouse and oversized sunglasses. Her hair was teased a mile high and her lips and nails were a fire-engine red to match. Like the car, she was adorned in dazzling white.



“Hellooooo, Paul daaaarling!” she called over the thrum of the engine. “Mia wanted to meet you but she was detained so she asked me to come pick you up. Oh, I do hope there is room in the trunk for your boxes. I have just been shopping and, well, I went a little crazy.”



“Oh, that’s, uh, great. That Mia – she’s so thoughtful,” I replied to the vixen in the car. My two friends looked at me waiting for an explanation as well as an introduction. Ever the quick thinker, I said, “Uh … guys, this is, uh …”



Fortunately, Mia bailed me out. “I’m Mia’s friend Monique. Lovely to meet you! Such handsome friends you have, Paul,” at which she bit her lower lip and tipped her sunglasses down to reveal a pair of dazzling silver-flecked blue eyes. I could almost hear the erections developing in Sam’s and Avery’s pants.



The trunk popped open to reveal a variety of overflowing bags from the most expensive and trendiest boutiques in town. With a bit of creative packing we were able to get the boxes in and I closed the trunk and said my goodbye-for-now’s to Sam and Avery. Mia, er, Monique decided that would be the perfect moment to get out and slink around to the back of the car. Her white skirt was short without being slutty and her white heels were, well, they were slutty. The effect was devastating. She slithered between me and my friends, and said over her shoulder as she passed, “Paul, be a dear and drive, won’t you? I’m just so tired of driving this big beastly car.” A cool breeze, heavy with expensive perfume, followed in her wake as she opened the passenger door, sat down, and made a show of swinging one, then the other, long perfectly toned leg into the car.



“Of course, Monique, if you insist,” I replied. “See you soon guys. Thanks for your help.” I made my way to the driver seat, settled in, and took one last look at the building that I had worked in for years. And what I saw was about a dozen faces at the window all gawking at the siren in the zillion dollar sports car. Mia can be such a tease when she wants to be.



I popped the clutch and sped off, many pairs of eyes following until I reached the corner and turned out of sight.



“Well, I couldn’t let you get picked up in a rusty old hatchback, could I?” Monique/Mia asked with mock innocence.



“I suppose not,” I growled. “But I have a feeling that I am going to get pestered by Sam and Avery about when they might get to see Monique again.”



Mia laughed, quite pleased with herself. “Well, you can tell them that Monique was visiting from out of town. Besides, they really don’t want to have anything to do with her. She’s a bit of a tease.” Her tone then turned more serious. “Are you OK? I imagine that leaving your job was a bit bittersweet. That’s part of why Monique came to get you. A little distraction, a friendly – if slightly slutty – face to greet you.”



“I’m fine,” I answered truthfully. “The people meant more to me than the job and since we’re going to keep those people in our lives, there is not a lot to miss. Knowing that I’ll be doing something more meaningful with my life makes walking away very easy. Even if we haven’t figured out what that is. It’ll take me a little while to get my head around not showing up there every day but I really won’t miss it.”



“Good, I’m happy to hear that.” Mia paused, and then asked in a forced casual voice, “Would you like to go for a drive? It’s a beautiful day.”



My new Rule No.1 in life is when Mia makes a suggestion, go with it. “Sure,” I replied. “Why not? Enjoy the breeze, soak in the sun, clear my head.”



“Clear your head,” Mia purred. “Exactly what I was thinking.”



Mia had reached into her handbag and removed a small mirror and was now making a big show of checking her hair and face. I should have known something was up immediately, since neither Mia’s hair nor face ever needs checking since every shade and strand of her look stays exactly as she wishes at all times. If I was a bit slow on the uptake, Mia’s intentions became very clear when I felt my zipper begin to lower itself. The flap on my boxers then miraculously spread open and a warm tingle began spreading through my groin. “Clear my head” indeed.



A self-satisfied smile crossed Mia’s bright red lips. She put her mirror back in her bag, happy that her ambush had worked, and turned her head to stare out the window as we passed over the river, out of the city, and on to the highway out of town. Back at my crotch, the cool breeze and the warm tingle made for an interesting and not at all unpleasant sensation. As might well be expected if one is sitting with one’s fly open next to a gorgeous redhead who just magically unzipped said fly, her perfume filling your nostrils despite the wind rushing overhead, an erection began. And continued in earnest. Any passing truck would have been treated to the sight of a man with a raging boner sticking out of his pants and a woman looking out the window completely ignoring him. Fortunately, there were no trucks around. And fortunately for me, she did not ignore me for long. Without shifting her gaze from out the window, Mia casually stretched out her hand and placed it in my lap, with my erect penis between but not touching her thumb and forefinger. With the tiniest of movements she started to gently rub her long blazing red thumbnail against the edge of my shaft.



Sometimes, the lightest touch can be the most erotic. With the just the tip of her thumbnail, Mia grazed up and down the base of my cock, driving me crazy. Sometimes straight up and down, sometimes with a slight circular motion, always gently, barely there but oh so arousing. After a few miles of aimless driving (for me) and casual massaging (by Mia), she slid her thumb up my shaft and began the same light teasing touch just below the head of my penis. Mia knows well the profound pleasure that can be imparted by hitting that sweet spot just below the head. Her thumbnail orbited that spot, coming tantalizingly close but never quite settling on it.



If you have never had a handjob while driving, I can tell you it leaves you in a bit of a quandary. On the one hand (heh), it feels great, as you might expect. A well-executed handjob is a thing of beauty and Mia was an expert. Between her sensitivity to changes in energy in response to her touch, her ability to augment the sensation by pouring pure sexual energy into the mix, and just her genuine desire to make her partner feel as good as possible, she could do things with one finger that the most experienced courtesan would have trouble achieving with her whole body.



On the other hand (heh – never gets old), there is the small matter of concentrating on the road and not getting yourself and your passenger killed as a result of a momentary lapse in focus. I knew in my heart that Mia would never let us get wrapped around a tree or, worse, cause an accident where another might be harmed. Still, driving two and half tons of steel at highway speed demands your attention. I resisted the urge to just relax, throw my head back, and be swept away by the pleasure that Mia was weaving around me.



Maintaining that attention got significantly more difficult when she stopped avoiding my sweet spot and landed the pad of her thumb directly on it and started a circular pulsing massage. After the initial shock – which caused an unintended swerve by me a and barely suppressed chuckle from Mia – I was treated to a luscious build-up of excitement beneath Mia’s talented thumb. It can be debated whether the most pleasurable sensation in any sexual act is the period of foreplay and stimulation, the orgasm itself, or that moment of sublime pleasure in between when you are teetering on the brink, knowing that your climax is imminent and feeling it push you over the edge. I wouldn’t spend a lot of time debating that because they are all wonderful sensations. But I, personally, am a big fan of that in-between moment, that needle sharp feeling as the pre-climax is spreading across you just before release begins.



Mia held me in that in-between for what felt like an hour, but was only a few seconds. When at last she was ready to let me cum, I heard her say, “Eyes on the road, lover.” The need for her admonition was suddenly very clear as in one smooth movement she leaned over, swooped in, and nestled my cockhead between her luscious red lips. And I exploded. To my credit, I kept us on the road. But there was a few seconds there where I was very glad that the road was straight and the alignment on the Bentley was perfectly adjusted. I felt myself pouring into Mia’s mouth, which was providing just enough suction to encourage my release, but not enough to rush or force it. She was letting me cum, rather than making me cum. And it was glorious.



My orgasm eventually subsided and when she was satisfied that I was thoroughly drained, Mia sat up and licked her lips like a cat that had just drained a saucer of milk. “That was close,” she said. “Semen is soooo hard to get out of the upholstery.” At which point we both started laughing. Mia’s invisible helping hands thoughtfully guided my rapidly deflating penis into my boxers, closed the flap and pulled my zipper up, any evidence of Mia’s ministrations covered and swallowed.



“I’m hungry,” Mia declared.



“Still?” I quipped, earning me a jab in the ribs.



“Ha, ha, very funny. Yes, still. Monique cannot live on sperm alone!”



Again we laughed and I guided the Bentley along the roads and by-ways toward “our” spot – a small diner on County Road 19. The diner had special meaning for us. On the day we met, I helped Mia change a flat tire on her car while I was out on a bike ride. Later that day, I saw her again at the diner; I didn’t know at the time she had been waiting for me there and it was there that I first experienced the amazing sexual magic she was capable of. Happy memories.



As we pulled into the parking lot, the Bentley transformed into the late model hatchback that Mia had been driving when I fixed her flat. “Monique” disappeared, replaced by my beloved Mia, wearing jeans, boots, and a loose fitting t-shirt. She was still stunning, just not so over-the-top. Our preferred booth in the back was open and we slid in and waited for the waitress to take our order. Two iced teas, a turkey club (me) and spinach omelet (her) later and we were happily stuffed and deep in discussion.



“I have an idea for what we can do, Paul,” Mia said with excitement in her voice. I was all ears. “I’ll describe it and you tell me when you figure out what it is. That’s how I discovered it; I thought about all of the characteristics we wanted our enterprise to have and when I lined them all up, an idea popped out.”



“OK, shoot”



“We want to help people, make them feel better. We want me to be able to absorb, amplify and share energy. We want to be able to interact with people, have a life in the world and not live in secret. We want to give the appearance that we are a functioning organization or business so as to not arouse suspicion. We want there to be a meaningful role for you, that takes advantage of your talents.”



I nodded. These were all things we had discussed as important.



“OK,” she went on, “what kind of businesses do people frequent to feel better? Where does someone go to get re-energized? What kind of business could we open that would not appear excessively expensive to launch and attract undue attention? Where could we employ like-minded people and have some discretion over who we serve? Where would a person walk out of feeling like they’d just been pumped full of positive energy and not feel strange about it?”



In hindsight, I should have been able to guess, but in my defense it was not the kind of establishment that I have ever frequented myself. So, there I sat with a blank look on my face. Mia was a bit deflated, clearly hoping that I would have come to the same conclusion that she had. Nevertheless, her enthusiasm would not be dampened by my cluelessness so after an awkwardly long pause waiting for me to say something intelligent, she answered her own question.



“A spa! A day spa. An oasis from the daily grind. People come to relax and be pampered and they get a big dose of positive energy as part of the service.” Mia was positively beaming.



My initial reaction was that while it was a good idea, there were some kinks that needed to be worked out.



“I think that’s a good idea, but there are some kinks that need to be worked out,” I said.



“Of course, of course,” Mia said excitedly, “that’s why I need to talk this out with you. You have the practical vision. Together we’ll identify the problems up front and deal with them.” She grabbed my hand from across the table and squeezed. I could feel the energy she was putting off just from her touch. She was fired up. “So tell me. You think it’s a good idea.” I nodded. “What are the kinks? Hit me.”

I thought for a moment and said, “First, neither of us knows how to run a spa. We’d need to find someone who understands the business, the legal requirements, permits and such.”



“Right. But with your business acumen you’d be able to figure a lot of that out and for the rest we hire an experienced spa manager. The same goes for the staff – we find experienced people with good energy and make it very attractive for them to work with us.”



“Sounds reasonable. I guess a location shouldn’t be a problem – there’s a lot of real estate up for grabs so I’m sure we’ll have a lot of choices. I’m assuming you don’t want to run this out of your house.” I gave Mia a sidewise look, seeing if she might give away some bit of information about the location of her luxurious home.



She didn’t take the bait. “OUR house, you mean, and no, it wouldn’t be … appropriate to run a spa from there. Besides, it would give the wrong impression. We don’t want the spa to seem inaccessible.”



“Speaking of inaccessible,” I cut in, “do you think a spa is too much of a high-end idea? We’d be excluding most of the low income market, arguably a group that could use a dose of good energy the most.” This stopped Mia cold. I hated to be a buzzkill but I also knew that it would have occurred to Mia sooner or later that this plan might potentially limit the beneficiaries of her energetic generosity to only those with enough discretionary income to enjoy a “day at the spa.”



Mia furrowed her brow. I could tell that her mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to make this idea work. So it was with no small amount of surprise (and pride, eventually) that I came up with an idea that not only overcame the potential cost of service issue, but also sealed the deal for Mia that a spa was THE right thing for us to do.



“What would happen,” I began, “if we contacted a few of the local human services organizations in the area and set up a reduced-cost ‘client referral’ program? Like, for example, job placement centers, day care providers for single-moms, out-patient psychiatric or stress management services. They help people who could definitely use an injection of positive energy as well as a calming soothing hour or two. We establish a significantly reduced price list for referrals and a regular price list for the usual spa crowd.”



I am pretty sure that had we been alone, and not sitting in a diner, Mia would have pounced on me, wrestled me to the ground, and kissed me until I passed out. Or at least that was what the look on her face seemed to say. Let’s say she was pleased.



“You are a genius!” she cried, loudly enough that most of the heads in the diner turned around to see who the genius was. Who was I to argue? “The problem was never going to be what we charged people – we could set the prices any way we want, especially since we don’t have to turn much of a profit. The problem would be getting those who normally couldn’t afford it to come in and see that we could make it affordable for them. And opening the door to many of those people through referrals is perfect.” I won’t lie – I was beaming.



“We could probably even pick a location that is near to a hospital or counseling center,” I suggested.



“Oh, I am getting more and more excited about this. We make it physically as well as economically accessible. We stay very selective about our clientele, we pay our staff very well, and we bask in the joy of meeting people and making them happy.” Mia got up from her side of the booth and shimmied in next to me. “Tell me we can do this Paul, please. We can make this work, right?” Her eyes were almost blinding with an intense glow. How could I say no? Besides, it turned out to be a pretty good idea.



“With you, we can make anything work,” I told her.



“With us, you mean.”



And so, the Mystic Spa was born.



The name was our own in-joke referring to the other place of existence which Mia had become able to visit after we fell in love; when she described the experience for the first time it reminded me of the Van Morrison song “Into the Mystic,” and so the name stuck. And now, in a kind of sideways way, the Mystic would become even more of a part of daily life for Mia and me.



Speaking of the Mystic, later that day Mia made a visit there. After we had finished at the diner, we hopped back into the car, which on an empty stretch of road vanished and reappeared in her driveway, and continued to excitedly talk – well, she talked I mostly listened – about plans and possibilities for the spa. We settled in poolside facing each other on one of the massive chaise lounges and chatted for about an hour. After a while, Mia sighed contentedly, flopped over on her back and stared up at the sky with a happy grin on her face. I wrapped an arm around her and leaned my head against her shoulder. My mind wandered and I focused on how much my life had changed over the past few months. Even just that day, I had left my job and decided on a significant next step in my working – if you could call it “working” – life. It was a lot to process. But the constant was Mia. Her childlike enthusiasm, her sense of humor, her warmth and love made me feel like the luckiest man alive. Mia must have felt that this was what I was thinking because I could sense a change in her, feel the telltale crackle of energy around her. I went with my thoughts and began to focus on them, visualizing my love and life energy pouring into Mia.



In a moment, I could see the slight orange glow around Mia intensify to white. Mia never had to hesitate to ask me to send her over; I would do it willingly whenever she wished. But I think she really loved it when I decided to do it on my own. As the white glow wrapped around her, she looked up at me, mouthed “Thank you,” and then closed her eyes and with a quiet but ecstatic gasp she vanished, off to revel in the warmth and pleasure of the Mystic.



I napped. Not quite as dramatic, but it worked for me.



About an hour later, Mia reappeared, standing next to the lounge. She always seemed to lose her clothes when she went over and came back – not that I was complaining. “How was it?” I asked.



“Glorious,” she purred. “I am nowhere near adept enough at interpreting the feelings and the unspoken language over there, but I got the distinct impression that the universe is pleased with what we are doing.” Wow, you can’t get much better validation than that, I thought to myself. Mia joined me on the lounge and kissed me, gently but with so much love I could almost feel my heart swell. And, as it turned out, another part of me also choose that moment to swell. Mia broke the kiss and, totally ignoring my rapidly budding tumescence, said “Let’s celebrate!”



“Gee, I thought that’s what we were about to do,” I replied, with more than a little hope in my voice.



She kissed me again, lightly but with no less warmth, and said “Later, beast. I want to go out and be among people, feel their energy and let it inspire me.” With that, I suddenly found myself in the shower. Taking the hint, I gave myself a thorough scrub and, after standing under the cascading water for longer than usual hoping to feel Mia, or perhaps the teasing orange steam she had previously manifested to create a bit of bath-time pleasure, I concluded that there was not going to be any erotic fun before we went out and with a mildly grumpy sigh I turned off the water and toweled off.



I entered the bedroom to find Mia’s massive dressing mirror, which only appeared when she was dressing (well, duh), in the middle of the room and Mia standing before it instantly changing outfits and hairstyles in search of appropriate attire for the evening. “I can’t decide what to wear,” she whined. I couldn’t help myself – I started laughing so loudly that I almost choked. Here is a woman who quite literally could wear anything she wanted and she was having trouble deciding. Maybe too much choice is a bad thing. In any case, Mia did NOT appreciate my amusement and with an annoyed wave of her finger I found myself back in the shower, this time with cold water buffeting my previously dry body. I screamed and then started laughing uncontrollably yet again at Mia’s petulant outburst. When I walked back into the bedroom, toweling off and still laughing, Mia was smiling and started laughing with me.



“Perhaps we should decide what we are doing first. That’ll help making picking an outfit easier,” I suggested.



“Oh, I already decided what I’d like us to do,” she replied, with a sly grin on her face. “I think tonight would be a great time to meet your friends. Let’s call them up and see if they’d like to join us for drinks and maybe dinner.”



I don’t know why I was suddenly nervous. It’s not like I was afraid for Mia to meet my friends; far from it. I was so insufferably proud of my relationship with Mia that part of me couldn’t wait to show her off. Perhaps it was my mistrust of myself, worried that I might blurt out something that would compromise Mia’s secret. Or maybe just the unpredictability of having someone has powerful – and mischievous – as Mia interacting with my friends was disconcerting.



But, we had both agreed that this was an important step in our relationship, the integration of my two lives, so to speak, so I put aside any doubt and replied, with admittedly a bit less confidence than I wished, “OK. I’ll call Sam and Avery and see if they are free.” My cellphone materialized in my hand – she was wasting no time. They would probably still be at work, so I called Sam and said that if he was free I’d like to take him out for a drink after work, sort of a “going-away,” “thank you,” and “see, I told you we’d stay in touch,” all rolled into one. Not one to pass up a free drink, he said yes and suggested our usual spot, which was famous for good Buffalo wings and uneven service. I asked him to check with Avery – which prompted him to barely cover the receiver on his phone and shout “Hey Avery!” which I knew from experience irritated everyone in the office, mostly Avery – and heard him extend the invite. Sam got back on the line and explained that Avery could only come if he could bring his girlfriend, which would mean Sam would have to bring his wife. I told him that would be fine.



“I hope that doesn’t make you feel like a third, er, fifth wheel, Paul,” Sam said. “Unless your friend Monique is still around – she’s more than welcome to join us,” he added quickly. I wondered how his wife would react to Monique for a moment but let it pass.



“Sorry, Monique flew out after she dropped me off.” I paused – maybe some of Mia’s penchant for theatrics was spilling over onto me. “But that’s OK. Mia’s will be joining us. See you tonight, 7 o’clock,” I said then hung up. Mia gave me slightly evil but approving smile.



Given the casual atmosphere of our destination, Mia resisted the urge to overdress and chose a simple jeans and knit top outfit. She did however insist on wearing 4 inch heels; despite her ability to morph into virtually anyone, she was a bit self-conscious about her natural petite form, and I was insistent that the “real” Mia would be the person my friends would meet. So, a little over-compensation via her shoes was to be expected. And since she looks amazing in heels, I didn’t argue.



At a few minutes before 7, Mia zapped us (for lack of a better verb) to my apartment and kindly let me pick out my own outfit, which also consisted of jeans and an untucked dress shirt. We decided that it would be a good idea for us to get into the habit of entering and leaving through my apartment to help perpetuate the charade that we actually lived there full time. As it was, I was paying rent on a one-bedroom dressing room and front hallway that magically attached to Mia’s mansion. Ah, well.



We started walking to our destination just before 7 and when we arrived we spotted our dinner companions already seated at a big round table near the back. I waved and smiled and started guiding Mia between the tables and bustling staff. It was almost comical watching heads, both male and female, swiveling to follow Mia as she walked through the restaurant. She was not dressed overly sexy, her hair and face were elegant but subdued. Yet her energy draws people to her and without even knowing why all eyes in the place were locked on her. She seemed not to notice although I knew she knew it was happening; she just ignored the looks and behaved like any other woman on a date.



We arrived at the table and paused, four pairs of eyes looking up at us. Finally, Sam’s wife gave him a quick elbow which broke his trance and prompted him to politely get up to greet us. “Hi Sam,” I said. “Thanks for coming out. This is Mia.” Sam was momentarily at a loss for what to do next so he chose the conservative approach and extended his hand to Mia. Mia smiled, by-passed Sam’s hand, and gave him a brief but warm hug.



“Hi Sam,” she chirped. “I’m so happy to finally get to meet Paul’s friends.”



“Paul’s told us so much about you,” Sam replied. Which wasn’t actually true. I had told them how I felt about Mia, a sketchy story about meeting her during one of my bike rides when I helped her fix a flat, and other than a general physical description and the story that she worked out of town, I had basically told him and Avery nothing about Mia. But her hug and irresistible smile told him just about all he needed to know. “I’m really happy to meet you too,” he said. “This is my wife, Jennifer.”



“Hi Jennifer,” Mia said and gracefully moved between Sam and me, and air-kissed Jennifer before she could even move.



Maybe it’s a gender thing but I often get the impression that women purposely set out to dislike any newcomers to their circle. In one swift gesture – and I am sure there was a wave of positive energy that she let crash over Jennifer when she swooped in – Mia derailed any premeditated negativity toward her. Jennifer’s expression had changed from wary to friendly almost instantly. “Call me ‘Jenn.’ It’s so nice to meet you.” Her gaze turned to me. “And it’s about time you met someone special.”



Two things: first, to my knowledge, Jennifer lets no one, including Sam, call her ‘Jenn.’ Second, I don’t think Jenn had ever given a moment’s thought to my love life before that moment. That’s not to say that Jenn is a disinterested bitch; we just never spent enough time together for her to form an opinion. I guess her comments were meant to convey that she instantly liked Mia and was looking forward to spending more time with her as part of our newly expanded social circle. All this from one near-kiss from Mia. Amazing, but not really surprising.



Avery was usually a little slower on the uptake when it came to social niceties, which is why it was a bit of a surprise – no more so than to his girlfriend, Karen – that Avery had leapt to his feet and elbowed me (politely) aside to greet Mia. He wasted no time with a proffered handshake, choosing rather to throw his arms open to wrap Mia in a bear hug. With some guys you’d be inclined to think this was forward and slightly inappropriate. Avery, however, is such a good-natured mountain of humanity that it is difficult to see anything he does as inappropriate. Awkward and clumsy, maybe, but not inappropriate. A couple of chairs, not to mention my shoulder and elbow, were inadvertently swept aside in Avery’s path, and Mia just turned and leaned into the hug.



“Easy, Sasquatch,” I heard Karen say from the other side of the table. “Don’t break the poor girl in half – we’ve just met her.” Karen was as tall as me and had shoulders almost as wide. A standout college athlete, Karen was a perfect physical and personality match for Avery – kind-hearted, gentle, and accepting. They were like two Newfoundland puppies minus the shedding. Karen was somewhat trapped behind the table and the jumble of chairs in Avery’s wake so she blew a kiss to Mia who returned the gesture.



After securing another pair of pint glasses and ordering two more pitchers and a huge platter of hot wings and curly fries, a moment of silence fell across the table which was shattered by all four of my friends and their dates unleashing a torrent of questions. “Tell us again, how did you meet?” “When’s the big moving day?” “Where were you living before?” “What was working for a philanthropic foundation like?” “What was your favorite place to live?” And on and on. Mia deftly handled each question with plausible and detailed answers. She used elements of her actual life, traveling the world and such, to add embellishment and I tried my best to concentrate on remembering the answers for future reference. After a while, Mia reversed the conversation, insisting that the other two couples tell their stories, because “Paul is such a guy – he never gives me any of the good details,” which elicited knowing laughs from Karen and Jennifer, er, Jenn.



All in all, I was very pleased with the evening. Everyone got along, the girls displayed no (overt) cattiness and seeded to actually like each other, while the guys were content to listen, laugh, drink beer, and let the girls do the conversational heavy lifting. Which was fine with me. It was enough of a relief to be able to share Mia with a big slice of my world that I was content to not have to talk but to simply enjoy the company of my friends.



The conversation of course made its way around to Mia’s plans for a business and my role therein. It was easy for Mia to be sketchy since we had only just started working out the details but she shared the concept and the name, which met with guarded approval. “Great idea, but hard to build a business like that,” “You’ll need to find good massage staff,” “Location will be key,” etc. Unbeknownst to me, Karen had been using her background in college athletics to move into the sports and massage therapy field, so she offered to introduce Mia to her contacts, which delighted Mia to no end. Mia went to so far as to ask Karen if she wanted to come work for us once we were up and running. Karen said that she was still training and wasn’t really ready to practice, which prompted Mia to offer a paid internship whenever she felt ready.



“That’s very generous,” Jennifer chimed in, ever the practical one, “even before you’ve earned your first dollar at it. Be careful she doesn’t give the whole business away, Paul.”



Ignoring the ever so slightly bitchy edge to the statement, Mia put her arm around my shoulder and said, “Oh yes, I’ll need Paul to save me from myself. He’s very good at that!” at which she planted a long loud kiss on my cheek, which resulted in a mild blush from me and a hearty laugh for the other two couples.



As often happens when out with a group of women, the three at our table excused themselves to ostensibly go “powder their noses” and actually spend a few minutes alone to discuss whatever it is that women discuss in private in the ladies’ room. The three men took the opportunity to not say much of anything; other than a few “Dude, she’s great” comments from Sam and Avery, we talked about absolutely nothing of any importance. We were relaxed, we were with our women who were getting along nicely and all was pretty much right with the world.



And, as we all know, it is exactly at those “all’s right in the world” moments when something bad happens. In this case, “bad” came in the form of my vindictive ex-girlfriend, Marilyn, who walked in the door and did a visual sweep, looking for her friends who had apparently camped out at the bar. Marilyn, with her short blonde page-boy hair and conservative (if slightly too tight) business suit, began to strut over to the bar when she spied me and my friends at our table. Crap. She’d seen us. After a moment’s pause, Marilyn changed course and started walking over to us. Double crap.



“Hello Paul,” Marilyn said, a healthy helping of venom clinging to her words. She surveyed the table and asked, “Boy’s night out?” Before any of us could respond, our dates for the evening had re-emerged from the ladies’ lounge and were about to rejoin us at the table. I was not sure if I should be relieved or terrified; the situation was suddenly fraught with peril. Marilyn had met Sam and Jennifer and Avery before, and none of them were happy with the way she dragged my heart and self-esteem through broken glass after our break-up. Karen walked around the table, sensing the tension immediately although not knowing the cause, and gave Marilyn a wide berth; she slipped in next to Avery and waited for the scene to unfold. “Correction,” Marilyn continued, “couples’ night out. How lovely for you.”

Sweet as sugar and oozing sex appeal – she seemed to be able to turn it on like a switch, probably by broadcasting some strong sexual energy – Mia slipped in front of Marilyn and stood next to my seat and with an arm draped over my shoulder, asked, “Paul, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Mia looked up at the somewhat taller Marilyn and gave her a good look at her hypnotic silver-flecked blue eyes; even the icy Marilyn seemed momentarily derailed by Mia’s piercing gaze.



“Far more than a friend, sweety,” Marilyn replied before I could make an introduction. “Paul and I were together for quite a while, right Paul?” If Marilyn was trying to make me feel uncomfortable, she was succeeding; if she was trying to make Mia feel uncomfortable, however, she’d have to do much better than that.



“Oh, so you’re Marilyn,” said Mia, extending her hand. Without wavering from her sweet and friendly demeanor, Mia continued, “Paul told me you were lovely but he just didn’t do you justice.” I laughed – on the inside, of course – at Mia’s choice of words. If anyone had been done an injustice it was me at the hands of the scorned Marilyn and Mia knew it. “I’m Mia. It’s great to meet you.”



Marilyn reached out to shake Mia’s hand as if it were a turd wrapped in unwashed socks. After a brief finger-shake, Marilyn pulled her hand back as if she had been shocked, which I am pretty sure she had been. Mia’s smile remained unfailing. “So you’re Paul’s latest, eh? I thought you went for taller women, Paul,” she added looking over at me. “Like that one with Abraham.”



“Avery,” both Karen and Avery corrected in unison. I had to admit, Marilyn was very efficient – she was able to insult four of the six of us at the table in just a few words. It amused me greatly to know that, if she wanted, Mia could have grown before Marilyn’s eyes and become a strapping Amazon for whom “tall” would be an understatement. But I also knew that Mia would never do that.



Instead, Mia answered calmly, “Tastes change. I guess I just taste good to Paul now. Right, lover?” She gave Marilyn a lascivious wink and rubbed my shoulder affectionately.



“You know it,” I replied – finally getting a word in – and wrapped my arm around Mia’s tiny waist and pulled her a little closer.



I noticed Sam’s hand was firmly clamped on Jennifer’s shoulder, as if to strongly suggest that she remain silent. So, far Marilyn was failing at getting a rise out of anyone at the table and Jennifer was the most likely to escalate. Avery and Karen were watching with amusement.



In one final attempt to paint me in an unflattering light, Marilyn warned, “Well, I hope when he grows tired of you he treats you better than he treated me,” and then turned on her heel to walk away.



“I’ll just make sure he doesn’t tire of me, then,” Mia called after her. Marilyn stopped in her tracks and her back visibly stiffened. She must have somehow sensed that she was no match for Mia, though, because instead of responding she gave a wave to her friends at the bar and headed off without a word. Mia waited until Marilyn had reached her friends at the bar and was looking back at us, and then in one fluid motion she sat on my lap, planted a short but sexy kiss on my mouth, continued her slide back on to her chair, picked up and raised her glass and declared, “Here’s to our ex’s and all that they taught us!”



The other five of us at the table were probably a bit shocked that Mia could remain as charitable as she did in the face of such bitchy behavior. But I was sure that Marilyn was nowhere near the top of Mia’s 400-year old “most bitchiest” list so she took the high road and deflated Marilyn’s attempt at making a scene, while defending me and being rather sexy while doing it. Love her.



With the Marilyn situation defused, we went back to our casual conversation. The ladies rearranged our seats so that the three of them were together and proceeded to talk quickly and enthusiastically. Neither Sam, nor Avery, nor I had any desire to keep up with their chatting so we instead fell back on the tried and true subjects of sports, bad movies and any recent boneheaded exploits of my former co-workers. I was happy the three women were getting along so well – that would make future socializing much easier.



Jennifer was the first to yawn and when we realized it was well past 11PM we asked for the check, which Mia grabbed and paid amidst protests from the other couples. We filed out on to the sidewalk two by two, and I swear I could still feel the cold stare of Marilyn boring into the back of my head as we left. From what I could see she was getting more than enough attention from the men at the bar and making quite a show of it, although I think she was a bit frustrated that our table was paying absolutely no attention to her.



Kisses and (manly!) hugs all around, promises to do this again soon, etc. The foursome headed back to where Sam’s car was parked and Mia and I walked off in the other direction to my apartment. She seemed pensive. “Did you have fun tonight?” I asked.



“Oh yes, your friends are wonderful. It’s been a while since I have had real girlfriends so I am looking forward to getting to know them better. Karen has such good energy; she’s going to make a wonderful healer through massage therapy. Despite her textbook learning she also believes in the power of one’s own healing energy and has a good intuitive sense about it. I hope I get a chance to work with her. I think I’ll be able to improve her natural ability, even without giving anything away about myself. By the way,” she added, “remind me next week that I need to finish Karen off.”



“What does that mean?” I asked, a bit concerned about Mia’s choice of words.



“Relax, silly, I’m just helping her about a bit without her knowing it.” My look of confusion spoke volumes. “She told Jenn and me that she’s been frustrated at how long her rotator cuff tear has been taking to heal and that she’s afraid she’ll have to give up swimming if it doesn’t heal correctly. So I gave her a little help.”



“You healed her rotator cuff?” I asked incredulously. I shouldn’t have been surprised after seeing how Mia was able to manipulate my body as well as her own, changing parts and appearances at will. And, during her regular visits to Elaine, she used her ability to help Elaine rebuild her spirit and self-confidence by flooding her with positive energy. Still, it was a bit surprising to hear her so casually mention doing this to someone else.



“Not completely. I didn’t want her to be suspicious of any sudden changes. That’s why I need you to remind to finish the job next week.” She smiled up at me, rather proud of herself.



“Any other stealth work you need to share with me?” I asked kiddingly.



“Now that you mention it,” she went on, “Jenn has some serious self-esteem issues. I could sense the change in her energy every time the conversation turned toward her. Even if I wasn’t sensitive to someone’s energy output I’d have been able to tell by the words she chose. Despite her efforts, she has trouble keeping her figure and she exhausts herself exercising all the time. So, I was thinking that a few pounds might start “falling off her” over the next few weeks so she can see some positive result from all her hard work. Is that OK?” She almost sounded like a child who was asking permission to sleep over at a friend’s house.



“I trust your judgment,” was all I’d say. I had to assume that she’d provided this kind of “help” before and that she knew what she was doing.



“I think it’ll be a relief for her. Especially since she and Sam are trying to get pregnant,” Mia said. Sam had never told me that; that Jenn told Mia indicated a level of trust and comfort that I would not have expected right off the bat. “For what’s it’s worth, you can tell that Sam really loves her. I could feel a swell of energy every time he looked at her.”



“So what do you sense every time I look at you,” I asked.



“Lust, you naughty horny boy. Pure lust.” Mia gave my butt a squeeze and skipped on ahead of me laughing.



“Can you blame me?” I called after her. While I am well aware of how deep and honest my love for Mia was, I also had to admit that she was probably right. I could not see Mia without quickly becoming aroused at who she is and what she can do. I caught up to her and gave her butt an equally sharp squeeze which elicited a squeal of delight.



“Mmmm, I like that,” she cooed. “Which reminds me. Would it be, uh, wrong for me to make Avery’s penis larger?” If I had been drinking something at that moment I would have spit it out and had half go up my nose.



“What?!??!” was all I could manage.



“Well, Karen confided in me that she really loves anal …” Mia began.



“And you’re now telling me, why?” I asked. I really didn’t need to know about Avery’s sex life.



“Because I need your advice and I trust you. Anyway, Karen loves anal and …”



“When did she tell you this?”



“In the ladies’s room. You’d be amazed at what we talk about while we’re primping and adjusting our boobs in the mirror. Now, focus: Karen loves anal and wants to get Avery comfortable. Avery feels self-conscious that his cock isn’t big enough to get past Karen’s very muscular butt and penetrate enough to satisfy her.” I REALLY wished I hadn’t heard that. “So the obvious conclusion is that if Avery’s cock was bigger, he’d have no worries about it. And I don’t think Karen would complain either.”



“No, the obvious conclusion is that Avery is going to have to overcome his insecurity or Karen will have to go without or … or I can’t even BELIEVE I am having this conversation …”



Mia was relentless. “Paul. You have enjoyed the benefits of my ability to enhance your anatomy.” She almost blushed. “And I’ve enjoyed it too. Wouldn’t it be unfair to withhold that ability from two people who would really appreciate it, even if they didn’t know how it happened?”



“Which brings up the question of what their reaction would be if Avery’s dick was suddenly longer than before,” I pointed out. The conversation was getting more surreal by the second.



“Oh that won’t be a problem. First of all, I doubt either would be the slightest bit concerned – they’d be too distracted enjoying it to spend a lot of time wondering how it happened. Plus …” she paused and got a somewhat apologetic look on her face, “I might have mentioned to the girls that you told me that you were amazed I was able to get you harder than you’d ever been, and that meant for Karen that with the right, uh, stimulation Avery would have the confidence to try anal with her.”



Not happy. But even so I could not resist laughing. The sheer lunacy of Mia talking about my erections with her two new friends in the ladies’ room had to make you laugh. So I did. I was still laughing when we arrived at my apartment. I opened the door and we went inside and plopped down on the couch. Mia held out her hands and produced two big glasses of the luscious red wine she makes (somewhere). When we had worn down to intermittent giggles, we toasted and took a sip.



“So?” she finally asked.



“So what?” I replied. I knew exactly “what” but I wanted to hear her say it out loud. And see if she could resist laughing.



“So, can I make Avery’s cock bigger for Karen,” she purred, snuggling up next to me.



After a pause I said, “Sure, why not? If it’ll make them happy, why not? In fact, go ahead and make Sam’s dick bigger too. Everyone should have one!”



“Oh no, I can’t do that,” Mia replied. Jenn already thinks Sam is too big – any more and she’s afraid she’d get hurt.” I definitely did not need to know that. The look on Mia’s face was so earnest that it took her a moment to realize what she’d let slip and another moment before we were both laughing hysterically again.



“So it’s settled,” I said at last. “Sam’s cock remains the same, and Avery gets a longer one to satisfy Karen’s desire for anal.” Mia put her glass down on the floor and snuggled her head in against my belly.



After a couple of minutes, Mia asked quietly, “What about you?”



“What about me?” I echoed.



Shyly, Mia asked, “Do YOU like anal?” Now, my only previous anal encounter was with Mia and may not technically even qualify. At the time, Mia had changed herself into a mermaid and with her tail in the way, so to speak, the only means of penetrating her at the time was through what she later described to me as her “puckered little mermaid butt-hole.” Nice. Don’t get me wrong, it was an amazing experience, made even more so by the fact that we were 40 feet underwater and I was still breathing normally, without the benefit of scuba gear.



I had honestly never thought that much about anal sex simply because there was no shortage of delicious pleasures that could be experienced through a woman’s mouth and pussy that a third orifice never seemed a priority, sexually speaking. And with Mia’s wild imagination, I would never ever be bored.



Which is when it hit me. This wasn’t about me. I had never pursued anal sex before for the precise reason that my every conceivable need or desire was being met already. But that did not mean that Mia’s were being met.



I have never been on the receiving end of anal, nor do I care to be honestly, so I have no first-hand experience of what it feels like. Mia has on several occasions treated me to a gentle prostate massage during sex play, but emphasis on the word “gentle.” The whole idea of having a very hard cock introduced to that very small opening always struck me as potentially painful. But perhaps that is not how Mia felt about it. I had no doubt that during her 400 or so years of living she had tried many, many things that I hadn’t even dreamed of. It was entirely possible that she had developed a taste for anal, but since I hadn’t shown any interest she never brought it up. Even to an utterly non-judgmental free-spirit like Mia, perhaps she felt that anal still had some stigma associated with it, a taboo act only engaged in by deviants. The shyness with which she brought it up – and the fact that it was her who brought it up – indicated I should tread carefully and with sensitivity.



“Do I like anal?” I echoed her question. “To be honest, other than during our mermaid fantasy, I have never tried it. So I don’t know if I like it or not. I guess it always seemed potentially uncomfortable for the person on the receiving end, no pun intended.” Couldn’t resist, plus I hoped it would lighten the mood which it thankfully did – she giggled. “I’m not against trying it at all. You know I would do anything, try anything to make you happy. So the question, then, is: do YOU like anal?”



A sexy smile and modest blush crossed her face. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said, which got a laugh from both of us. “I do enjoy it. Not all the time but I enjoy all physical pleasure and the energy that’s created during anal is somewhat unique.” I cocked my head, not sure what she meant. “It can be a very submissive act for the woman, which means that, whether you know it or not, it brings out a bit of a dominant feeling in the man. Some guys take too it far, but mostly it is unconscious role play of a sort. It is also an unusual sensation – for you it’s a very tight channel grasping your cock, for me it is a feeling of getting penetrated and filled up in a place I don’t usually experience it. The result is a tasty mix of energetic flavors.”



She never ceased to fascinate me. Or arouse me. I could feel an erection rapidly forming, listening to her description. Armed with another pun, I told her, “Well, I am UP for anything as long as it is enjoyable for you.” Heh.



Mia stood and pulled me to my feet. With a quick wave of her hand my clothes vanished, leaving me and my growing penis in full view. “Not quite ‘up’ but I can fix that,” she said with a wicked grin. Under normal circumstances my cock – which had admittedly been enhanced somewhat as a result of my time with Mia – would grow to about 10 inches hard. As Mia repeated the hand wave in front of herself and made her clothes also vanish, I found myself doing some quick arithmetic and geometry in my head and just couldn’t see how it was not going to be agonizing, if not physically impossible, for Mia’s petite frame and tiny butt to accept my cock in its current size.



“Are you sure this is not going to hurt you?” I asked.



She took my cock in her delicate hands and smiled warmly up at me. “I swear you won’t hurt me. It will feel wonderful for both of us, I promise.” She paused, a devious smile replacing the warm one. “But if it will put your mind at ease, I can make some adjustments.”



With my cock still in her hand, I watched in amazement as my petite brunette Mia began to grow before my eyes. Inch after inch she gained, her legs lengthening, thighs widening, shoulders and breasts expanding to maintain perfectly feminine proportions. Only bigger. I thought for a split second that this figure looked familiar and then it hit me. Karen. Mia had assumed Karen’s height and frame. In bare feet, the transformed Mia was looking only slightly up at me and her upper body was equipped with a swimmer’s muscular shoulders and toned arms. It was still Mia’s lovely face, but on a distinctly different body.



“Is this a ploy to make me feel better about you lengthening Avery’s cock for Karen?” I quipped.



“It’s a ploy to make you feel better, but not for that. I want you to enjoy this and not feel self-conscious. So, if I can present you with a body that you know enjoys anal, maybe you’ll relax a bit more.” I had such trust in Mia that relaxing wasn’t going to be an issue – and in fairness I had no proof that this body, Karen’s body, really did enjoy anal – but I appreciated Mia’s desire to put me at ease and just went with it. “And maybe a little added spice,” she said.



Mia slowly turned around and waggled her butt at me, which began to bubble out further, transforming the tight muscular Karen-ass into a full-on “Baby’s Got Back” exaggeration of a porn star butt. At the same time, a mane of auburn hair cascaded down Mia’s back, her lips turning the signature red-gold of Mia’s dream-state alter ego, Auburn Mia.



“Are you ready darling?” she purred as she sank to her knees. “Just a little lubrication and you should be ready.” Looking straight into my eyes, Mia parted her creamy lips and guided my cock into her waiting mouth. When her lips reached my pubes, she closed her mouth and aggressively swished her tongue over my throbbing penis, slathering it with her saliva. She pulled her head back, slowly releasing my now glistening cock. When I finally completely reappeared from inside Mia’s luscious mouth, I looked down at my penis in her hands and was doing the math in my head again; I was now concerned not about hurting Mia but whether my 10 inch dick would successfully reach past the rounded orbs of Mia’s cheeks to penetrate her. Mia successfully interpreted my glance at my member and said, “Don’t worry, lover, you’re more than enough for me. Still, if you’d like a little help …” at which point she once again engulfed my cock in her mouth and lavished it with her tongue. She pulled her head back again and I watched as each of my 10 inches slipped out between her lips, until the head reappeared.



Or so I thought. I did not know exactly when she passed the 10 inch mark but I was soon very aware of the fact that more than 10 inches of penis were exiting Mia’s mouth. She smiled around my cock and gave me a sexy wink and continued to lean back until a cock head poised at the end of at least 14 inches of shaft emerged with a pop.



“Shall we?” Mia asked. She stood up, turned her back to me, and leaned over, her hands touching the floor. I reached out and gently rubbed her cheeks, enjoying the firm feel and roundness of them. My enlarged cock bumped against her crack as I continued my massage. Mia, feeling the proximity of my penis, pushed slightly back and gyrated slightly, basically greeting my cock at her (back) doorstep.

After a moment or two more of touching, I heard Mia say, “Don’t worry, Paul. I’ll love it. And so will you.” Displaying miraculous balance (in my opinion) Mia reached her arms behind her and placed a hand on each cheek, her long nails pointing inward. Using her nails and fingertips, she pressed into the flesh bordering the crack and spread her cheeks to reveal an inviting intra-cheek canyon ending at a small, slightly pulsing opening.



I took a deep breath and a step forward, positioning my cock in the crack, next to her fingertips. I started to thrust forward, slowly, savoring the soft caress of her flesh against my cock. She seemed to enjoy it too as a soft “mmmmm” escaped her lips. I let myself enjoy the softness of her skin and moved in and out a few times, not purposely intending to tease her but was nonetheless rewarded by Mia’s slightly frustrated “unnnnh,” followed by a an urgently whispered “pleeeease.” Clearly this was something that Mia was longing for – had I any idea she wanted this so badly I would have obliged long before. So, gentleman that I was, I had to bring Mia’s anticipation to a close.



I leaned forward, once again enjoying the grip of her cheeks and stopped with my cockhead at the opening of her ass. I pushed slightly, parting her for a moment, getting the feel for how much resistance there was. This was unlike a pussy, totally different. With a pussy it feels like you are being drawn in; here, I felt like I was pushing my way in. Which is what I did.



Mia’s sphincter expanded as the head of my cock spread her and slipped inside. I heard Mia moan and then pant slightly. I paused, letting both of us get used to the sensation. Mia once again started to gyrate her hips, which I took as a signal to keep going. I pushed gently. And went nowhere. I pushed again, and was once again met with resistance, not advancing a bit. I heard a giggle from Mia. “You are not dipping your toes in the water, lover. You have to puuuush.” As she said that she leaned back hard and I felt my cock lurch forward into Mia. A moment ago I could not have imagined ever pushing my cock against something so hard, with such force; but here I was, about two inches inside Mia and it felt like my cock was being strangled, but in a good way(?). Mia just gasped and shook her head, the tips of her long hair swishing over her toes.



I spread my feet a bit and dug my toes into the carpet to get as much leverage as I could. And I pushed, about a million times harder than I had before. Mia’s push backward had quickly educated me on the level of force required to make this work. So I pushed and watched as another couple of inches plunged inside and another louder gasp rose from near the floor. Once more and again after that I pushed until about half of my cock was buried inside Mia’s luscious butt. I had been so distracted by the force required to enter her that I hadn’t really focused on the sensation my cock was experiencing. Which was incredible! Imagine the grip of the tightest pussy and the strongest blowjob you’ve ever had and square it. It felt like a smooth glove had been stretched over my cock, grasping it in a death grip, exciting every nerve on every square millimeter of the shaft. I pushed again, now growing accustomed to the force and resistance and was rewarded with a bolt of pleasure as my cock pushed open her canal and my shaft followed along. The sensation of tightness and depth that I had experienced during the mermaid fantasy was nothing compared to this.



With one more thrust, I had vanished inside Mia as far as I was going to. My hips and pubic bone were resting against the rounded edge of her cheeks and anatomy dictated that I would go no further. Not to say I wasn’t deep. Easily – well maybe that is the wrong word – 11 inches of my augmented cock were currently inside Mia’s ass and her panting and faint groan told me she loved it. Not sure what to expect, I started to lean back and extract my cock a bit, which further intensified the sounds of pleasure coming from Mia’s lips. “So big … so full … soooo good,” I heard her sigh between pants. I was met with less resistance on the trip back, or at least it felt that way; perhaps I had simply gotten use to the amount of force required. I continued the retreat until about three-quarters of my penis had emerged. Almost like lightning, Mia raised her hand to her pussy, rubbed furiously, and then reached behind her to grasp the exposed portion of my shaft and rub her wetness on – nature’s luscious lubricant.



Seeing her do that set off a bell in my head. As I prepared for re-entry, I reached around her thigh and placed my hand over her pussy, my fingers blindly probing for her slit. I immediately felt five long fingernails dig into the back of my hand, pressing hard, directing my hand. “Oh, god, yes,” was all I heard before a long low moan began. My thumb found her clit while two fingers teased her pussy lips. At the same time, I was close to bottoming out in her butt again, the second trip far easier than the first.



Mia stopped wiggling her hips, apparently preferring now to just enjoy the in-and-out of my cock, and pressed her pelvis forward a bit, making sure – as if there was any possibility – that my hand never moved away from her very wet pussy. For me, the sensation was odd, but very erotic. There was none of the warm, honey-like slick sensation on my cock. It was by no means dry, but it was more like a smooth tight grip, like thrusting into a tight satin tube. The friction was greater than anything I’d experienced before which was causing me to race toward climax much faster than I would have expected.



Mia’s orgasm took both of us by surprise. One second she was panting, enjoying the sensations from both sides of her pelvis. The next, she twitched like she had stepped on a high-voltage wire and let out a sharp, almost pained, yelp. She shook violently, my arm barely keeping her upright. Her nails once again dug into the back of my hand, but this time she was clearly indicating that I should STOP! rubbing her clit. I obliged.



What happened next was rather surreal. I have become accustomed to seeing an orange glow around Mia, pretty much all the time (but I know what to look for and so I am especially sensitive to it), but especially during sex. This time was no different, although the frequency of the pulsing and changes in orange hue were especially pronounced. When she climaxed, Mia shone solid bright orange for a few seconds; as her orgasm subsided, however, the bright orange remained. I would have expected that, as the wave of energy passed over and through her, the accompanying glow would change. But it didn’t. An intense orange halo stayed wrapped around for a few seconds.



Almost too quick to see – but oh did I feel it – the orange glow flowed off of Mia and blanketed me. Every nerve in my body tingled, and the pleasure center in my brain went crazy. My hips bucked involuntarily, causing me to thrust against Mia’s still trembling body. At the precise moment that my pubes touched Mia’s butt and my balls slapped up against her crack, I exploded. And given the confined space in which it happened, it literally felt like an explosion. What felt like a steady stream of cum throbbed out of me, the flaring of my cockhead fighting against the inward pressure of Mia’s anal canal.



Both Mia’s and my knees buckled at the same time and we tumbled forward, Mia on all fours and me kneeling, still deep within her and approaching the end of my orgasm. It was all so sudden that I hadn’t noticed that I’d been holding my breath, until the burning in my lungs caused me to exhale violently and gasp in a mouthful of air. I knelt there for a moment, taking deep breaths, feeling my heart pounding in my chest with a fainter throb in my penis keeping pace. I leaned forward and rested my head against Mia’s (or actually Karen’s) broad smooth back. The arm that had been wrapped around her slid up to her torso and I hugged her close. With my head pressed against her I could hear her heartbeat.



After a moment, I felt myself sliding slightly forward, so I raised my head, just in time to see Mia begin to shrink back to her taut petite form. It always fascinated and excited me to watch her morph like that. She could have made the changes instantly but I think she knew that watching the transformation process was incredible arousing (and astounding) for me. So, whenever possible, she would make any fantasy-related changes slowly, giving me a thrill. This time was no different and despite being exhausted from having just experienced my first “real” anal experience, my cock remained hard, twitching slightly as the transformation proceeded. Speaking of my hard cock, I could not help but notice that despite Mia’s smaller frame, I was still quite deeply encased inside of her. She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder and began to wiggle her butt. After a moment, my cock, which apparently had been returned to its previously less prodigious size, popped out.



Mia turned around and sat cross-legged on the floor facing me, with a happy if somewhat tired grin on her face. “Did you enjoy that?” she asked.



“Whatever ‘that’ was, it was wonderful,” I replied. “What exactly happened there at the end? I’ve never seen you – us – do that before.”



“Oh that,” Mia said. She was blushing again, which was quite a sight given that we were both still pretty red-faced from exhaustion. “Well, the glow should be familiar. You always see that when I am turned on and enjoying myself. I guess you no longer have any doubt about whether I get off on anal.”



That seemed to make it pretty clear that I was welcome to avail myself of her tight little butt – or apparently anyone else’s she cared to “borrow” – any time I wanted. But before I’d do it again, I needed to know what had just happened. “I am very familiar with the glow you get. What I’ve never seen before is it flowing off of you and around me like that. It was like you purposely transferred it to me, and all the energy that went with it.”



“I did transfer it, but it was not what I would call purposely,” she said cryptically. “Let me explain. Remember when I said that part of the special energy of an act like anal is that it places me – or allows me to place myself – in a submissive position?” I nodded. “I hope this doesn’t make me sound like some kind of monster, but I am very powerful. You already know this. And you know that I would never willingly misuse that power. And because of how we feel about each other, when we give pleasure to each other, it is pleasure freely given. There have been times in our relationship where I have played a more dominant role, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. Take our very first encounter, for example. I was going down on you, and even though I wasn’t physically touching you, my energy was giving you pleasure. If I had sensed that you weren’t enjoying it or felt violated, I would have stopped. But you enjoyed it.”



I did. Of all of the wondrous encounters I have had with Mia, that very first day when she literally blew my mind in the booth in the diner is still the most amazing. I smiled at the mention of it and my smile made Mia smile too, and I saw a quick shimmer in her afterglow.



She continued, “Make no mistake – I was doing that TO you. That was me in a dominant role. And I loved every second …” She licked her suddenly ruby-red lips lasciviously, ” … and every drop. But whether you realized it or not, I was in charge of that encounter; what happened, happened TO you.” That made sense. Despite the fact that I was on the receiving end, Mia was completely in control of the situation.



She went on. “There have also been many instances where you were pleasuring me and I was able to let myself go and enjoy it. You could say that in those cases you were playing a more dominant role, but not very dominant.” She paused and was lost in thought for a moment. “I suppose you could even say that when you send me to the Mystic, you are in a bit of a dominant role; you are doing it TO me, and I am letting you do it. But as soon as you send me, I am gone and that part of the encounter is over.”



She took my hand between hers. “With all that said, Paul, it is very rare for me to simply turn myself over to someone and let them have their way. I was never completely out of control, and I know you would never do anything you didn’t believe I’d enjoy, but for those moments I was being as submissive as I’ve ever purposely been.”



“And the glow,” I asked.



“Despite you being the dominant, you used your hands to give me pleasure and you got me off, rather quickly. I was so worked up by the whole scenario that it took very little for you to push me over the edge. And it felt wonderful. But since I was being truly submissive, my pleasure belonged to you. My orgasm and my excitement from submitting to you generated an especially large burst of sexual energy. And since that energy, like my pleasure, belonged to you …”



“… It automatically flowed to me and wrapped around me,” I finished.



“Exactly. It was the final act of submission. All that delicious energy gravitated to its master of the moment.”



“And when that much concentrated sexual energy hit me, it instantly triggered my orgasm.” It was beginning to make sense.



“Yes. I guess I should have warned you, but I honestly wasn’t sure exactly what would happen. I knew I would enjoy giving myself to you like that, and I was pretty sure it would be pleasurable for you, too, and that you would feel the special energy that goes along with being the dominant with me.” She paused, a sheepish look crossing her face. “I didn’t realize that it would make you cum instantly, although in hindsight it made perfect sense. I hope you aren’t disappointed that it ended so quickly.”



“I can honestly say that there would have been no way on earth – or anywhere else – that you could have made that experience disappointing.”



A smile lit up Mia’s face and she launched herself from her cross-legged position into my arms, knocking me onto my back with her lying on my chest. “I’m so happy to hear that. I really wanted you to enjoy that. Not just the anal but the whole dominant/submissive roleplay.”



“Well, I’m not sure I’d ever be comfortable with a strict dominant role, but I am happy to live out any situation like that,” I told her.



“And anytime you get any, shall we say, interesting ideas yourself, you must tell me about them. You know I literally live for pleasure. The energy produced so far exceeds the physical sensation for me that I am always up for anything that will get you excited.”



“I understand, and I will. But I don’t ever want to cause you physical pain. That was my real concern with anal – that it would hurt you,” I explained.



“You’re so sweet,” she replied. “But remember, I can alter myself at any time so I will never get hurt or experience pain.” She paused. “Unless I want to. Sometimes the physical sensation of pain is very exciting. When you were entering me, and it felt like I was getting stretched inside, I felt that. Because I wanted to. It wasn’t exactly painful or exactly pleasurable. But it is a unique sensation and I wanted to feel it.” She reached down and took my semi-erect cock in her hands. “When I had 10 inches of your cock up there, I had to make some adjustments, but it was wonderful feeling you go deeper and deeper inside me.” She started stroking my cock softly. “Oh, and when you came, feeling you pulse and fill me with cum, it felt so good.” She kissed me. “Thank you for trying that with me, for sharing it. And for trusting me.”



“Thank you for introducing me to it,” I said. “You can bet I’ll want to try it again.” To punctuate the point, I reached my hand around and placed my index finger at the opening of her ass and traced little circles around the edge. Mia shivered and cooed softly.



“Anytime you’d like, lover,” she said, resting her head against my chest. “I hope you didn’t mind that I borrowed Karen’s body shape for this. I figured that, at least sub-consciously, it’d be easier for you to let go if you knew the body – the butt – you were playing with really enjoyed anal and could physically withstand whatever you could dish out.” She gave my cock a quick squeeze, then returned to the slow stroking.



“That was very thoughtful of you,” I said. I was only partially successful in hiding my smirk.



“Of course darling. Anything for you.” Mia raised her head and looked into my eyes. “Or anyone. I know how much you love me so I would never get jealous if you wanted me to change myself into someone else to fulfill a fantasy.” She briefly shifted her form into Blonde Mia, gave me a deep tongue kiss, then quickly changed back into her true form. “Or if you want to re-live an experience, that is fine too.”



The butt rash I received trying to crawl out from under Mia would last for days. And I am pretty sure the scream I let out could be heard blocks away. And probably the only look of terror that even came close to mine in intensity was on Mia’s face in reaction to mine.



But it wasn’t Mia’s face. It was Marilyn’s.



“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Paul, I’m so sorry,” Mia began crying, and instantly shifted her appearance back to her natural form. “It was a joke. I wanted you to know that I’m OK with anything you ask. If you had past demons you wanted to work out, I could help with that.” Mia curled into a ball and sobbed loudly. “I didn’t mean to upset you so. Oh god, I am so stupid. What was I thinking?” She was rocking back and forth, more talking to herself now than me. Instead of the shimmering orange glow that I was so used to seeing, there was a pale blue haze surrounding Mia; I had seen that only once before and it was at the moment when she was the most upset and angry I’d ever seen her.



I was still waiting for my heartbeat to slow down and for the sharp pain in my stomach to subside. Marilyn was probably the last person in the world I’d ever want to see under any circumstances. So, to suddenly have her all-too-familiar visage staring back at me from inches away, I nearly went into shock.



It took about two minutes for me to calm down and clear my head to where I could think rationally. There was absolutely no way in the world that Mia would purposely want to upset me. There was not a malevolent bone in her body. She did have a mischievous sense of humor, so maybe it was just as she said, a joke. But I had told her about how badly things ended with Marilyn. And she had met her just a few hours ago, and saw the way she interacted with me and my friends. Hell, Marilyn even tried to get a rise out of Mia, albeit unsuccessfully.



I thought for a while longer and realized that although I had mentioned Marilyn as an unpleasant ex, I didn’t go into much detail. So other than some passing comments during an earlier conversation, Mia had no idea that I’d react so violently. It may have been in bad taste and an error in judgment, but Mia couldn’t have known the reaction she’d ignite. Still, she met the woman; she must have picked up on what a venomous bitch she had been. Mustn’t she?



I crawled over to where Mia was still curled up and crying and put my arms around her. She buried her head on my shoulder and kept sobbing for another minute or so, and then looked up with teary bloodshot eyes and said, “I am SO sorry.”



“That’s OK, love,” I said. I stroked her head and held her close. “I was just surprised. Unpleasantly surprised, to be sure, but surprised. I know that you’d never do anything to purposely upset me.”



“I honestly truly really didn’t think you’d have that response,” she said, sniffling.



“Yeah,” I replied, “about that.” She looked up at me slightly bewildered. “I am honestly truly really surprised that you wouldn’t have expected that reaction. I know I didn’t go into much detail about her, but you MET her. You touched her. Didn’t you pick up on how awful she is?”

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