08-13-2018, 11:25 PM
Rowan did not believe in sex outside of a relationship. After her late husband passed, she had gone on a month-long bender which involved a whole lot of Jack Daniels and dick. It was the only time in her life that she had been so promiscuous and it had landed her in trouble a few times. The issue was that you didn’t know what a guy was like if you just met and then fucked. Some men didn’t take no for an answer. Like ‘Rambo’… Cocksucker, Rowan thought to herself. The man wanted her, but she didn’t want him. He had Rowan anyway; now he was sitting at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain wearing cement shoes. Fucker, Rowan thought to herself again.
This dance with Mikhail wasn’t planned, but she welcomed it. Voodoo inspired primal urges and made people do strange things. She had never seen practitioners engaging in ritualistic sex… At least not in public, so that wouldn’t be happening here. Some innocent kissing was fine though. It played up the atmosphere, and people liked sex. Seeing two attractive people getting a little hot and bothered would be enough to catch everyone’s attention, if the Voodoo, fireworks, tarot cards, and all of those other things didn’t.
If there was any doubt in Rowan’s mind that this other man could wield magic, it was washed away with the braids of fire. If she hung around this Mik, she’d have to be careful. He seemed like a pyromaniac what with the halos and now the swirling flames. It was hot and made Rowan damp with perspiration, but it was just one more thing to enhance the ritual that she had constructed for the night. As Mikhail ravished her, Rowan extracted her hands from his buttocks, which she had been firmly grasping… There was nothing wrong with groping either.
The sound of monkeys chitter sounded in her mind. It had that strange ethereal quality that the song had, the one she heard before beckoning Mikhail into her circle. That could only mean one thing… She looked at Mikhail and whispered, “It appears that you and I are not the only ones…”
Rowan pulled away from he partner in this wicked dance of tounges and threw her arms up into the air. She felt Papa Legba enter her once more, a waterfall of energy, cascading through her body, an unseen light shining behind her shoulder. The tarot cards swirled up from the ground again, arcing overhead and shuffling themselves. With a clap of her outstretched hands, the cards scattered in the air. Three cards darted off through the crowd and floated in the air before a man Rowan had never seen before. He appeared to be Asian, although Rowan hated assuming such things. He was handsome as well. Rowan didn’t have to see the cards to know which ones they were.
Death… The Wheel of Fortune… The Fool…
The fact that those cards sought him out meant that he could wield magic as well. This stranger was a Channeler. The audience would have no way of knowing that. To them, Rowan was just picking out another stranger from the crowd, lest he start casting his own spells like Mikhail. She pointed to the man and beckoned, then turning back to Mikhail.
“When it rains, it pours,” She purred in her most sultry tone.
This dance with Mikhail wasn’t planned, but she welcomed it. Voodoo inspired primal urges and made people do strange things. She had never seen practitioners engaging in ritualistic sex… At least not in public, so that wouldn’t be happening here. Some innocent kissing was fine though. It played up the atmosphere, and people liked sex. Seeing two attractive people getting a little hot and bothered would be enough to catch everyone’s attention, if the Voodoo, fireworks, tarot cards, and all of those other things didn’t.
If there was any doubt in Rowan’s mind that this other man could wield magic, it was washed away with the braids of fire. If she hung around this Mik, she’d have to be careful. He seemed like a pyromaniac what with the halos and now the swirling flames. It was hot and made Rowan damp with perspiration, but it was just one more thing to enhance the ritual that she had constructed for the night. As Mikhail ravished her, Rowan extracted her hands from his buttocks, which she had been firmly grasping… There was nothing wrong with groping either.
The sound of monkeys chitter sounded in her mind. It had that strange ethereal quality that the song had, the one she heard before beckoning Mikhail into her circle. That could only mean one thing… She looked at Mikhail and whispered, “It appears that you and I are not the only ones…”
Rowan pulled away from he partner in this wicked dance of tounges and threw her arms up into the air. She felt Papa Legba enter her once more, a waterfall of energy, cascading through her body, an unseen light shining behind her shoulder. The tarot cards swirled up from the ground again, arcing overhead and shuffling themselves. With a clap of her outstretched hands, the cards scattered in the air. Three cards darted off through the crowd and floated in the air before a man Rowan had never seen before. He appeared to be Asian, although Rowan hated assuming such things. He was handsome as well. Rowan didn’t have to see the cards to know which ones they were.
Death… The Wheel of Fortune… The Fool…
The fact that those cards sought him out meant that he could wield magic as well. This stranger was a Channeler. The audience would have no way of knowing that. To them, Rowan was just picking out another stranger from the crowd, lest he start casting his own spells like Mikhail. She pointed to the man and beckoned, then turning back to Mikhail.
“When it rains, it pours,” She purred in her most sultry tone.