“A gourd works as well as a crystal ball,” the witch-mother cackled, hacking the top off the pumpkin.

The innards were stringy.

”Meditate upon the strands of time. Focus, believe, let your essence flow. Your heart’s desire shall be granted.”

Alone, I stared into web-like pulp, my fingers fucking my cunt and stimulating my clit. My essence flowed with orgasmic bliss. Multiple, screaming orgasms consumed my steaming flesh as visions of my perfect man, fucking me to oblivion, raced through my mind. Twenty-two orgasms possessed my soul.

That same number of years later, I met the man of my dreams.