Hidden from view, just off stage, I moaned in pleasure as the young, muscular stage attendant licked up and down my dripping pussy. Casper saw me in the throes of goddess-driven, blissful passion as we shared naughty smiles. He was on center stage, addressing the audience at his seminar. Distracting him while he lectured was now our game; it was fair, he did the same thing to me.
“Let me see a show of hands,” he said, his newly grown goatee giving him a Satanic look despite his license plate, “N0T S4T4N,” proclaiming he was not the Devil incarnate. “Who here believes that magick is real?”
A slight majority of the audience's hands went up. Slightly taken aback, I had expected a larger show of hands. Casper Montague floated upwards, his feet leaving the stage. Levitating several feet high he smiled at the audience of hundreds, literally basking in the spotlight.
“How about now?” More hands went up as he gently floated back to the wooden stage.
The years had been kind to my husband; yes, you read that correctly. I was now Mrs. Krys Montague. It was not a whirlwind romance, it was the slow evolution of love, natural and organic. Shortly after I discovered the key to translating the second grimoire, the “favorite day” being the date of my birthday, Casper and I became close friends, much closer than before. The bond between us, borne of the trauma of abduction and almost being sacrificed together, strengthened our friendship based upon kindred spirits. Over the years, that closeness grew into romance.
My healing session with Violet and Megan soon became common with several other students having romantic woes. I had become an unofficial love and sex therapist, a witch of renown, and an icon of loving equality between the sexes. “Lilith Aphrodite” had fallen into a life of helping others find love, joy, lust, peace, and balance. I was even invited to host several workshops at the convention we were attending.
Aunt Grace's third grimoire remained unread, never translated except for the first line. No hidden key or other voodoo to translate, just her heeded first instructions.
“Do not translate this book until you've found your successor.”
It mattered not; I had everything one could dream of. As I said, the years had been kind to Casper. They were much more loving and tender with me. I ceased aging. My skin remained smooth, pale, and soft; never a wrinkle nor a gray hair. Casper, not so much. We were happy, in love, wealthy, and the world lay at our feet. One might wonder if Casper ever discovered that I was kissed by my goddess, Aphrodite. If he knew, he never once spoke of it, only accepted. Luckily, his wild, partying, swinging ways were never abandoned, which allowed me to keep my energies at full force.
The odd thing about magick is that it is true, real, and one can achieve anything at all. They simply need the conduit and the faith. I had both, was the conduit. My faith was unshakable; my acolytes and students in the Church of Aphrodite were cut of similar cloth. I could do almost anything but only did so to help others, to guide them, to heal them.
Casper, always the showman, had the audience captivated. I believe that charisma is also a form of magic. If that were true, that made dear-hubby Montague the Wizard of Oz.
He addressed the audience, filled to near-capacity with Wiccans, Pagans, New-agers, skeptics, scientists, and journalists. “What if I told you that there is an overwhelming body of vetted, peer-reviewed scientific data that proves it, but has been suppressed and ignored?
“As recently as a decade ago a well-respected, prestigious psychologist by the name of Daryl Bem conducted iron-clad psychological studies over a decade. Following all rigorous standards of scientific experimentation he proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt that 'psi,' or psychic powers as we call them, is real; furthermore, he also proved that the future can affect the past as well as vice-versa.
“Was he heralded by his discovery? Was the fact that his results followed all standards admired? Were the facts that his results were replicated by independent studies the cause of a new frontier in science and psychology? NO!
“Scientists and psychologists united against him because they could not believe the results. His work was suppressed. Rather than the supposedly most brilliant minds in the world admitting that they needed to rethink, they rejected his experiments and buried them. The term 'Replication Crisis' evolved from those studies. Scientists changed their standards to disallow any proof of things they did not desire to see.
“In their defense, they had little choice. You see, if Bem is correct, and he is, then all of science is broken. That means that every single foundation of physics, science, and especially psychology is built upon an illusion.
“He's not the only one. Dean Radin, a PhD., an electrical engineer, and also one of the minds behind Project Stargate—that's the government psi project, not the fun movie—has also presented irrefutable evidence that magick, with a 'K', is real. Even Einstein himself knew this truth. His Spooky Attraction states that matter is energy and that energy interacts with itself, reforms itself, and does so across vast linear distances in zero time at all. Quantum physics has shown us that all things are energy, and that time, space, and reality are subject to our will.”
Grasping the head of the youthful man, blond and lithe, filled with all the enthusiasm and vitality of youth, my oozing, dripping cunny humped his mouth, positioning itself so his tongue hit the perfect spot on my clit.
“Yes, just like that, “ escaped my wanton lips through my moans. “Faster, harder, make me cum.”
Pulling his inexperienced hand to my cunt, I shoved three of his fingers inside myself, pistoning his digits until he got the idea. One hand grasping my engorged breast, the other beckoning to the cute black-haired young woman watching as soon as I felt her aura of arousal, I waited until she approached and kissed her, releasing all of my lusty desire, my passion, my urgent need.