The Battered Lamp Seven: The Jealousy of the Witch - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Seven: The Jealousy of the Witch

... asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Christy collapsed under Fatima's stare. “Yes. I guess I can find out if you're as good as your brother.” Lunch was a lot of fun. Kyle had Aaliyah on one side and Christy on the other, both smelling sweet, and their bodies warm as they pressed against him. Fatima plopped herself on Chyna's lap and made the concubine feed her. Britney sat next to the pair, reading from a text book. His other friends laughed and joked, and bemoaned their lack of beautiful concubines. When lunch ended, Kyle had drafting, another class he shared with Britney. His eyes kept falling on girls with pink auras. He wanted to find the next girl for his harem. A blonde. None of his wives or concubines were blonde. He spotted one as they neared their drafting class. Alexina. “I'll catch up,” Kyle muttered to Britney, his attention focused on the blonde girl and her lovely face set with green-eyes and red lips. Her aura was a light pink, not as light as the chubby girl, but still someone looking to be taken in hand. Britney glanced at Alexina and shook her head. “Do you not have enough women, Kyle?” “Nope.” “You should dump Christy, and marry Alexina. She will not break your heart.” He wanted to ask Britney why she seemed to hate Christy so much and pry that secret out of her, but Alexina walked by, and her rear was quite shapely beneath her tight jeans. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I need to talk to you, Alexina.” “Oh, what?” Britney just shook her head, ...

... and headed into the classroom. Kyle made his wish; no-one would interrupt them. He took her and pushed her up against the locker. She squirmed, opening her mouth to object; he silenced her with a kiss. She froze, then struggled harder. “Stop resisting,” he whispered when he broke the kiss. “You know you want this.” “Please, stop!” “I can look at you and tell. You're a submissive slut that wants some strong guy to make you his toy.” She shook her head, curls of blonde hair—streaked with pink highlights—danced about her head. “No. Please, Kyle.” He froze for moment. Maybe Aaliyah was wrong? What if the girl doesn't want this? He stared into her green eyes. She blushed, licking her lips. Her struggles seemed to lesson and her eyes went downcast. No, he could see how much she really enjoyed this. Her hips wiggled, pressing her groin against his hardening cock. “Please. Someone will see us.” Kyle slid his hands down her side and unbuttoned her jeans. They were tight, and it took some work to shove his hands into her crotch. Her panties were cotton, and damp around her pussy. He grinned, and rubbed her. “I know you want this,” he hissed. “You're a naughty slut that just wants to be told what to do.” “I'm a good girl,” she protested. “I don't want that.” “Then why are you so wet?” “No I'm not!” He jerked his fingers out, moisture beading on them. She smelled tart. He shoved his finger under her nose; nostrils flared as she inhaled. “Then what's that on my finger. Smells like pussy ...