That's Nothing To Laugh At

She led him by the arm upstairs to the bed, the mattress long and luxurious, draped in velvet and covered with rose petals. Melvin wondered how long the witch had been planning all of this. Perhaps, before she'd even met him? Who could say?

Morgan wheeled towards him and brought her mouth to his, and Melvin was lost again in the feeling of becoming something more than he was, a bolt of ecstasy and fulfillment loosening his knees under him and almost stealing his balance.

Melvin broke their kiss and said, "This is like a dream."

Morgan shook her head in the negative, "No, nothing has ever been more real."

She helped him onto the bed, gently putting him down as she crawled on top of him. The mattress was soft, and Melvin felt himself sink deep into the bed. Even if he wanted, he didn't think he'd be able to get out of it, but the thought didn't make much difference either way. He had no desire to escape his lovely witch's clutches.

Morgan worked her way up Melvin's neck, her kisses soft, and she nibbled delicately at Melvin's ear, tingles shooting down his spine.

"No jokes tonight?" Melvin said with a wry smile. Morgan brought her face close to his, shrugged and smiled.

"The way I'm going to fuck you silly? Yeah. That's nothing to laugh at," she said and pulled him into a deep kiss, her pink tongue darting out and wetting Melvin's lips with tickly strokes.