WARNING:
THERE IS EXPLICIT SEX IN THIS STORY. I marked this clearly in the header. The sex is graphic, but all loving and consensual (and not that much worse than a typical romance novel). If reading sex scenes like that would offend you, please don't read this.

If you want to comment, send email to <luba@lubakmetyk.net>

Part 1

Her panties were still in his jacket pocket where he'd put them immediately afterwards, after taking a long appreciative sniff of her delicate feminine odor on the lacy fabric, with a chuckled "A true knight always carries his lady's favor, schönes Mädel."

Amanda had been both excited and nervous, afraid some other hotel resident would step out into the hallway at the wrong moment and see just what her lover was doing. The threat of her resulting embarrassment had her blushing prettily, the warm flush washing over her face and, Kurt was quite sure, other delightful areas of her body. All through their early supper at one of her favorite Soho restaurants, he'd entertained himself thinking of her sitting there so primly and so sedately in that sexy black dress... and no panties underneath. After several glasses of the good red wine he'd selected, she'd slipped off her shoes during the entree and they'd played footsy periodically until the last bit of dessert had disappeared, and more than once her bare foot had found its way up into his lap under the safe haven of the damask tablecloth. As he'd found so often in their past, his foster sister's early circus training ensured she could be very dexterous with those toes, indeed -- and with other unexpected parts of her body -- although of course no normal human could match his own agility.

They could have taken a cab to the restaurant and then on to the play, but instead they'd opted for the tube. As she'd walked into the Leicester Square station, just as she had on the crowded sidewalks, Amanda had been careful to move conservatively, lest a gust of wind show the world her secret. And when the Northern Line train came roaring into the station, her hands had instinctively gone to her hemline, making sure the blast of air didn't give him a Marilyn Monroe moment -- but then deliberately lifted up at the last second, allowing a brief flash of all her charms, accompanied by a wide smile.

In the theater, during the play -- perhaps bored by Ibsen -- the part-time stewardess/part-time sorceress had again played the aggressor, her fingers reaching over to brush against the crotch of his slacks, constantly re-energizing his already uncomfortable, unrelieved erection. And Amanda had been the one to insist, with her eyes as big and wide and innocent as she could manage -- Kurt always got lost in those eyes, he never could say 'No' to them, ever since he could remember -- that they counterbalance Ibsen with champagne during the intermissions, and she'd had enough bubbly that she'd gotten very giggly and even more gushingly sexy.

By the time they'd left the concrete National Theatre building overlooking the south bank of the Thames to walk back to the Waterloo tube station, their entwined fingers playing yet another sensuous little game, they were both walking self-consciously, Amanda with no panties, Kurt with an erection that felt the size of an oil derrick.

It was pleasantly cool outside, and she shivered a little as the breeze played over her exposed skin. "You must be cold. Here, take my jacket, Schatz," her escort offered gallantly, but she shook her head, smiling, as she walked along clinging to his arm as much for support after the wine and champagne as for warmth and affection. "Then, I insist we take a cab -- you will be warmer and we will be back at the hotel more quickly if we do not have to wait to change trains at Leicester Square."

Within a few minutes of reaching the intersection of Waterloo and York Roads, they were comfortably ensconced on worn but clean leather upholstery in the roomy back seat of an old-style black London cab. Still giggling sporadically, Amanda slid over to snuggle up to her boyfriend and kissed him, tilting his head with one hand until their lips met, her tongue dancing saucily around inside his mouth.

That was absolutely delightful, of course, but after a moment Kurt decided it was time to try to take the initative back again, and let his ladylove feel some of the same frustration he was currently suffering. While the cab drove through Lambeth, he shifted his body to block the driver's view -- although the middle-aged and obviously world-weary cabbie *had* to be used to all sorts of couples making out in his back seat -- to run one hand up her leg under her skirt to her inner thighs, and above. After lightly brushing fingertips over the wet heat there, he removed his fingers again, with just a touch of her moisture on them and brought them up to his lips. Crossing Westminster Bridge, they both ignored the view of the Thames and the Houses of Parliament as Wagner instead stared fixedly into Amanda's shining sea-mist eyes shifting to follow his every tiny movement. As he had earlier with her panties, he could smell her scent as he licked his fingertips clean... and then offered the thumb to her lips.

Smiling, she closed her eyes and surrounded his offering with her beautiful rosebud mouth, and began sucking softly. Kurt removed his thumb and placed his forefinger in her mouth, and she did the same. Then he slid in his other finger. Amanda sucked it lasciviously as she had the others, in a traditional pantomime of fellatio, with a teasing grin that couldn't be concealed by her occupied mouth.

Wagner was at full flagpole again now -- unfortunately, he'd just reminded himself how much he himself needed relief, as much or more than he'd teased his partner by not driving his fingers more deeply inside her. Aware of that, Amanda let go of her impromptu popsicle and pushed her lover away a few inches to call out to their driver, "Could you pull over, please?"

"'Ere, madam?" At her quick nod, the cabbie obediently pulled over off Chelsea Bridge Road, stopping in front of some buildings standing shuttered and silent, since it was getting pretty close to midnight. Around the corner, there were several dark houses in-between closed shoppes with an empty lot on the other side, so it was a reasonably secluded spot within the city.

As their driver started parking under the glowing circle surrounding one of the streetlamps, Amanda wriggled her fingers and muttered under her breath, and the cabbie let his vehicle coast several more meters, to stop in the darker gloom just beyond. The sorceress kept wriggling her fingers for another long moment, though, and kept chanting, her low voice rising slightly on each word, until she barked a last command, and fell silent.

Kurt looked down in considerable surprise as his girlfriend slid forward off the seat to kneel in front of him, mostly invisible in her black dress in the darkness, with just her pale legs and arms and face illuminated by the diffuse light from the streetlamps. "Was machst du da, Amanda? Wenn uns jemand sieht!"

"You looked like you were getting pretty desperate there, mein Teufelchen." Practiced hands undid his belt, unzipped his slacks, and parted them. Then her fingers expertly moved his boxers aside, freeing his erection. "Relax -- the driver can't see, hear or smell anything, and he won't even know he's been out of it for a while."

Wagner reached down, to grab her hands where they were about to grab a certain portion of his own anatomy. "I had thought we would save my... extremity... for our return to our temporary quarters. I fear I will not last long at all tonight, and I would not wish to short-change you..."

"Keine Sorge, Kurtilein," his girlfriend grinned up at him. "I found this great old spell recently -- the witch covens back centuries ago used to used it on the member chosen to represent the Black Man--"

"Was?" Kurt was having more than a bit of trouble concentrating at this particular moment, and Amanda's sudden swerve into a history lecture had confused him completely.

"The Black Man, Kurt!" she exclaimed impatiently. "Come on, Mother taught us both the basics ages ago. The Church considered him the Devil, but he was really the embodiment of Pan... you know, the Greek fertility demi-god?" she added archly.

"Ahh..." Nightcrawler did indeed remember those early lessons, and had started to grin himself as he realized what Amanda was planning.

"And, as the symbol of fertility, the Black Man had to service everyone in the coven during their ceremonies, whether he was a real demi-god or just a mortal stand-in," the sorceress continued. "This spell was designed to make sure he could perform as required. So, I can assure you, Kurt -- whatever happens now, you'll be more than ready later too..."

They traded knowing smirks. "Then I can safely leave everything in your capable hands, kleine Hexe..."

"And mouth..." she purred throatily. With one last look up at him, the wanton look in her eyes burning into his memory, Amanda's head sank into his lap, and she finally took him into her mouth -- just the head, at first, and an inch of the shaft. She ran the fingers of one hand up and down the velvety soft blue skin along his straining length, while her other hand cupped his balls in a warm, slightly sweatty palm, playing him like a musical instrument as she so well knew how to do.

Meanwhile, true to her word, her mouth alternately sucked at the engored bulb, and then relaxed while she ran her tongue all around it. The sucking, slurping noises were really a turn-on, and periodically she'd make a noise deep in her throat, an "Mmmmm" sound, as if she were enjoying her meal, knowing her lover enjoyed the audible signs of her own enjoyment. Then she started humming a little tune with his manhood still held in her mouth, which always drove Kurt crazy with the tiny gusts of air and faint vibrations against his highly sensitized flesh.

His hands played idly in her hair, caressed the back of her neck, and traced gently over the dress down her backbone. Amanda was doing a wonderful, energetic job, but Kurt had to fight the urge to grasp her head and force her down on him -- he knew she didn't like to take it very deep. But what she were doing was fantastic and, as he'd predicted, he didn't last very long, the whole previous evening of being turned on by her had him primed and ready to burst. "Gleich kommt's, Schatz..." A last warning. Back off or be prepared.

"Mmmm-hmmm..." muffled, but eager, her one hand still caressing his balls, her other hand stroking his shaft even harder, her suction gentle but steady, all bespeaking years of intimate knowledge of how to best please each other. Kurt had let go then, gasping and spasming as he spurted into her mouth. Amanda had swallowed greedily, making him feel as if he'd been transported to a higher plane, the blood roaring through his veins not from the wine, but from the orgasm she'd just orchestrated. His lady continued to gently work him with lips and teeth and tongue and dextrous fingers until he was completely finished. Then he sagged back, sweating, feeling very confined suddenly, still in sportcoat and tie, tail trapped uncomfortably where it lay hidden against his leg inside his pants. They stayed there for a few minutes, the sounds of the punk rock station on the cab's radio suddenly blaringly noticeable once they were not longer as distracted.

Suddenly a car wheeled around the corner, stabbing out with its headlights, which probably weren't brights but seemed so. Wagner tensed for a minute but Amanda's spell held, and the cabby still sat frozen and oblivious in the front seat. However, the sweep of light had given Kurt a brief flash of her lovely face there in his lap, her head turned to one side, his softening manhood still held lightly in her mouth, eyes widened and pupils dilated in shock at the unexpected glare of headlights -- then the car sped on by.

"I think it would be best we go back to our rooms," he said. She lifted her head, nodding agreement, and rearranged herself on the seat while he carefully zipped up. A negligent gesture awoke their driver, and they drove the rest of the way in silence. Amanda had sat there all proper and sedate again, but the taste of him was still with her, and, once, when Kurt had looked over, she was thoughtfully licking her lips.

Continued in Part 2...