Page 41 of Wishing Upon a Monster
“You said you would keep your hands to yourself.”I took his thick shaft in hand and slid down his velvety length.
Olan hadn’t cast his body-bending spell on my mouth, but I felt that even if I couldn’t get very far down his shaft, that was what hands were for.
He bucked in my hands, cursing, raising his hands to the top of the shower where the decorative edging formed a groove. He clasped that for dear life when I took his heavy sack in hand and rolled his balls, giving them a squeeze.
He made an unintelligible sound when I licked his cockhead, it was mostly shaped like a human’s, with a small frill of skin that I loved; the frill tickled the roof of my mouth as I took just the tip of him inside. I bobbed my head, testing how far back I could take him while using my hands to glide along the rest in a twisting motion. Then I sucked.
At that point, Olan ceased being successful in keeping his hands to himself.
We materializedover the well on Willow Street at ten minutes to twelve. Olan was wearing a V-neck tee-shirt at my request, paired with his black pants that draped like linen, and for the first time, black dress shoes. I had curled my hair into waves, keeping the short strands away from my face with little gold clips that Olan gave me. I wore a pair of dark, wide-leg jeans with buttons up the front instead of a zipper, and a blue, bell-sleeved top with a little scalloped collar. Olan had also given me large gold heart-shaped earrings that were delightfullychunky. I paired everything with a pair of black leather clogs that my mother had gotten me this past Yule.
“Ready?” I asked, accepting my purse from Olan as he pulled it from its safekeeping spot in one of his pocket realms.
“Are you? Should I be worried about meeting your mother?” he asked, taking my arm like a gentleman.
We strolled out from the small garden where the whimsical well was located onto Willow Street proper.
“I wouldn’t say worried. No matter what she thinks, we are together,” I tried not to notice the people trying not to notice us. People in magical small-town America were getting better about seeing all kinds of beings.
If we didn’t make any sudden movements, they wouldn’t be talking about the shadow creature that terrorized their town for the next twenty-odd years.
“This is true,” he said, bending down to kiss me on the head.
I heard a few “awws” from around us, and I blushed. I was happy to see I wasn’t alone in my embarrassment, noting the purple tinge to my husband’s face.
The respectful, quiet observations couldn’t last, though. Like a minotaur in a china shop, my sister Annaliese charged through the few unfortunate beings on the sidewalk and threw her arms open. “SISTERRRRRR!” she cooed, hugging me tightly.
I glared at Olan, his hands now in his pockets as he smiled down at us.
“Honestly, Annaliese!” My momma scolded, following behind her at a distance with Ainsley.
Momma and Ainsley were dressed in pastel midi dresses with cardigans over top. Momma’s red hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and so were Ainsley’s blonde locks.
Whereas Annaliese...
“Anna, are you trying to give Momma an aneurysm?” I whispered, pulling back and taking in her loose, wavy blonde hair, pale blue crop top, cutoff jeans, and chunky croc sandals.
“Every day, little sister, though you do a better job of it than I!” She stuck her tongue out before letting go and bouncing back, extending a hand to Olan. “Hey there, brother-in-law, nice to meet ya!”
He very gently took her hand and gave it a gentle shake before wrapping his arm around me and hooking his thumb in my jean pocket.
“You should have walked! It’s not like they were running away! Hello, dear,” my momma said before popping Anna on the arm.
I laughed. “Hi Momma, hi Lee, can I introduce you to my...Olan?”
“Husband,” he said, unwrapping his arm and bowing low to my mother and sister.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Lee said, “how do you feel about a June wedding?”
‘What?” I said in disbelief.
“I’m open to celebrating our union in any way that my bride wishes,” the traitor said.
“Now wait just a darn minute!” I said, but my family began walking away, chatting about how good I would look in white.
Olan agreed, wrapping his arm around me again and pulling me along after my chatty family.
“Well, you may have made her an honest woman in your culture, dear,” my mother said, “but it’s important to do the same here in hers. Her father and I are more than willing to foot the bill for our youngest daughter to be formally married.”
