‘In my travels I have known many witches of many sorts and I have studied their lore.’ ‘When I am angry fire bursts from my finger tips and I ca... hurl it and make thing explode and burn, but I cannot call it at will.’ ‘Just angry? What about when you are afraid, like when the ape attacked, or when your sisters threaten you? ‘No, that’s the worst. When I am afraid I grow stone cold, and to make fire I have to be hot. The, the spark of the fire comes from . . . from well…, down there inside me.’. And when her fingers walked downward onto the swell of firm breast it seemed quite natural to stroke the smooth orb, circling it, then finding the center, the rubbery areola as big as her palm and the rigid protrusion of the nipple.She forked her fingers on it, squeezed, held on for Rita was kissing her throat and the soft, wet mouth sent fiery waves fanning through her flesh.Rita murmured, "I burn you with my kisses, my love."Susie had once read the line, a bit from the Song of Bilitis, the. More

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