He almost ran, but then centered himself. After all, he called them. They should appear if any of this worked. He just wasn’t expecting it to be so ...iteral.He began circling his little pot of incense and chanting the words over again. Now he could feel palpable movement in the air. He found a rhythm to the words he had memorized and practiced during the day. They moved his feet as he chanted them now and he began to spin as he circled the incense. His right hand, still holding the knife, raised. After a moment she slides shakily off of my fingers and regains her composure, adjusting her clothes back into their place. Shifting in the chair she leaves me and curls back up in her seat, ending our tactile conversation, seemingly to drift off to sleep. Again perhaps.The urgent swelling in my shorts demands attention but I disregard it, withdrawing into my mind to ponder over what just fucking happened. Feelings pull me in different directions: an almost pride at having given her pleasure;. More

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