Disclaimers: Mine.

Sex: If you have to ask, clearly you’re not familiar with my work.

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com. Check out my novels at:  http://www.sapphirebooks.com/kim-pritekel/ 

Happy Halloween!!! 

Magically Delicious


Kim Pritekel


Bouncing slightly on her the balls of her feet, Tenneson Monroe stood with her hands behind her back as she waited patiently for her push of the doorbell to be answered. She looked up, her gaze traveling up and up and up along the sandstone structure of the large house, built, she’d guess, in the early 1900s. The old house was gorgeous, but creepy as hell, in her opinion.

The house had been an eyesore of the town for years after the owners that had turned it into a bed & breakfast took off in the early 2000s, leaving it to fall apart and decay. Then one day, there was a construction crew there and the house was alive again with noise and progress. Work finished, the eccentric couple had moved in and now, a handful of months later, had called her in, though she’d gotten to know them somewhat at a couple social engagements.

Tenny was about to reach out to hit the doorbell again when the oversized front door with a beautiful stained glass window with beveled edges as the centerpiece opened. A tall, strikingly handsome man with well-groomed, graying hair stood there for all the world looking casual in a white button-up shirt, crisp and clean with sleeves rolled to the elbows, though she knew it was a three hundred dollar shirt, and cargo pants. What gave it away, though, were the highly-polished Salvatore Farragamo ankle boots he wore, rather than a rugged hiking boot or simple tennis shoe.

“Hey, Tenneson, how are you?” he said with a warm smile. “So glad you could come.””

“Thanks, Will. I appreciate the call,” she said, extending her hand in a gesture of professionalism.

He pushed her hand away and took her in a short but warm hug. “We’ve drank wine together. I think we’ve breached the wall of friendly.”

She smiled. “Fair.”

“Come in, please,” he said

Stepping across the threshold, Tenneson looked around in awe. The house sported a large foyer, as many of the large homes of the turn of the century did, the masterpiece, of course, being the gorgeous crystal chandelier hanging overhead and the beautiful staircase, curving out of sight to the second floor. It was that staircase that Tenneson’s gaze was drawn to at the sound of the loud, Whoop!

Standing at the top of the stairs, where they appeared from behind the second floor wall, was Will Ash’s husband, Dean Ratliff. Unlike his more serious, buttoned-up partner with his clean-cut good looks, Dean was a vision of mischievous quirk. He wore baggy purple and turquoise flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt that read in large white letters, Keeping Talking, I’m Diagnosing You. His hair was longer than Will’s short, perfectly-coifed hair, though he wasn’t going to be sporting a ponytail anytime soon.

“She’s here!” he bellowed, slipper bottoms slapping against the wooden stairs as he hurried down, hand running along the rail as eh wet until finally he hit the hardwood of the foyer – literally – with a heavy thud as he jumped down from the second to the last stair.

Tenneson watched the theatrics with wide eyes, a bit overwhelmed by the energy pouring off of the 40-something big kid in waves. He walked up to her, all smiles with charming dimples.

Head slightly cocked to the side and hands on his hips, he said, “Look at how adorable she  is, Will.” He looked her over from head to work boot-covered toe. “Little cutie patootie with that luscious auburn hair, big green eyes, beautiful lips, my goodness!” he gushed. “And, then on top of that, these great old jeans showing off a cute little body, and this toolbelt,” he said, tugging playfully on the large buckle that kept it all together on her hips. “She is a walking, talking lesbian love story cliché!” He clapped his hands. “Love it!”

“We should introduce her to Mason,” Will said thoughtfully, Dean meeting his gaze.

“You are so right!” he gasped, seemingly thrilled at the prospect of this Mason person.

Tenneson raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what to make of Dean’s visual and verbal exploration of the very essence of her and the two of them planning her future for her.. “Fellas, I’m standing right here,” she muttered.

Dean blinked several times, as though seeing her for the first time. “Oh,  sorry, sweets,” he said, reaching out and taking one of her hands. “Come, let’s give you the tour of Chez Rash!” he exclaimed, his free hand waving dramatically about. She was almost expecting jazz hands at any moment. He glanced at her over his shoulder, Will bringing up the caboose of their little train. “Abbreviation for the Ratliff-Ash house,” he explained.

Tenneson smirked but said nothing. She hated to admit it, but she was charmed by him. Though the renovation was clearly finished, but not all the rooms had been furnished or didn’t seem to be designated for a specific purpose as of yet. She listened as the two men – mostly Dean – rattled off what they wanted in specific areas, from pre-bought fixtures wired and mounted, to a room in the basement, which would become an art studio, to be wired for a kiln, to special lighting for artwork.

They stood on the landing for the third floor, the smallest of the entire house, and she finally asked. “Certainly I don’t mind doing the job and definitely appreciate the work, but why didn’t you have your guys do all this when they updated the wiring in the house during reno?” Oops, she thought as she saw the look that passed between the two men, clearly a touchy spot.

“I wasn’t sure fully what I’d want until I saw everything finished,” Dean muttered.

“Gotcha.” She barely hid her grin as she wrote a few more notes on the notebook she carried, making sure she missed nothing in their list of needs. Finished, she looked back to the two men. “So, what am I doing up here?”

Will looked to Dean, heavy eyebrows drawn. “Yes, why are we up here, Babe? I thought we weren’t going to mess with this floor.”

“Why not?” Tenneson asked.

He looked at her. “Because it’s creepy as hell.”

Dean stared his husband down for a moment before saying, “It’s not, Murder House, Will.” He looked back to Tenneson. “It’s magical,” he stage-whispered dramatically.

“Creepy,” Will repeated.

Tenneson looked from one to the other, confused. “Oookay. Well, uh…”

As he had before, Dean took Tenneson’s hand and tugged her down the short hall from the landing to one of the two doors, both standing open, and both completely empty, the walls not even covered by sheetrock. They venture into the one to the left.

“We’re thinking of making these duel offices,” Dean explained, standing at the center of the room, arms spread wide to encompass the entire room. “This would be mine.” He grinned. “Now, I’m an attorney, so pretty basic set up, really.”

“Computers, office equipment, lighting,” Tenneson offered, ticking off each one on her fingers.

“Exactly. And, perhaps a small kitchenette over there,” he said, indicating one of the corners. “I understand that’s a plumbers prevue, but outlets for a fridge and such,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Tenneson nodded, adding it to her notes and doing a quick sketch of the room’s layout so she had the right area for the potential purpose. “Sounds great,” she said absently as she sketched  a few more lines before following the two across the hall to what would be Will’s space.

“My Honey is an architect,” Dean explained, “So, he needs architect stuff.”

Will grinned, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. “Honestly, nothing special. Just computers, some light tables, that sort of thing.”

“Okay. I can handle that.” She looked from one to the other. “Anything else?”


Tenneson stood next to her truck, one side of the bed’s toolbox open. She was gathering all that she might need, never sure and never assume. She had her toolbelt as well as wire, old work boxes – for putting in a switch to turn lights on or off – outlets and outlet covers. She was never sure with a structure, so she also brought a conduit just in case the wire can’t go through the wall, but instead along the wall. In a house this old, that was often the issue.  She had more goodies with her, always preferring to have too much than too little.

She paused, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She glanced up ad over her shoulder her gaze going to the window that would lead to what will be Dean’s office. She felt she was being watched, as though someone were standing there looking down at her.

Doing her best to shrug off the feeling, she returned her focus to her gear, heaving a heavy spool of wire up to brace on her shoulder, her other hand carrying a nylon bag full of the aforementioned things she’d need, and turned from her truck where it was parked in the circular drive and faced the house. Again, she felt eyes on her.

Looking up, Tenneson gasped softly when she swore she saw someone – or something – quickly duck out of the window. She stopped and stared, blinking as she couldn’t believe what she’d seen.

“It was Dean,” she murmured. “It had to be. Yeah, it was him,” she added, then with butterflies batting at her ribcage, continued on her way into the house.

Two hours later, Tenneson was in the basement room that would soon be a studio for Will’s burgeoning pottery hobby. She was rewiring the outlets and breaker to accommodate his kiln for firing the clay projects.

She hummed softly to herself as she worked, though stopped, her hand pausing in its task. She knelt on one knee her back to the medium-sized room, the somewhat low ceiling in the part of the room where she was making it feel a bit claustrophobic. But, what made her pause was more than that.

“Hello?” she called out, looking over her shoulder, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “Dean?”

When there was no response, Tenneson returned her focus to her job so as not to shock herself, but she swore she thought she heard someone sigh. Again, turning from the outlet she was wiring, she took another look, her gaze scanning the expanse of the room.

“Dean? Will?” She pushed to her feet, taking a few steps towards the open door, a dark hallway beyond. “Hello?” She nearly jumped out of her skin when suddenly a man appeared, stepping into the light of the doorway. “Jesus, Will!” she exclaimed, hand to heart.

He gasped, hands up in supplication. “Sorry, sorry.” He put a hand to his own chest. “You scared me.


He let out a slow breath, grinning. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been doing that for like five minutes,” she growled, her fright turning to anger. She hated feeling afraid or startled.

“What do you mean, five minutes?” he asked, eyebrows falling. “I just got down here.”

She stared at him, slowly turning her head a bit so she could give him a good side eye. “I’ve been hearing you down here for a minute, Will. It was freaking me the hell out.”

He shook his head. “I assure you, Tenneson, I wasn’t. Dean and I ran to the store to grab some things for our Halloween party. We just got back. In fact, that’s why I came down here, Dean wanted me to make sure you were coming.” He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You seem really shaken up. Are you okay? Want me to stay until you finish up down here?”

Though tempted to take his offer, she shook her head, running a hand through her hair before dropping it back to her side with a slap to the side of her thigh. “No, I can be a big girl,” she said with a forced smile. “How do you guys live there, though? My anxiety level would be through the roof.”

He smiled, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a more casual stance. “It’s honestly not that bad in the majority of the house.” He shrugged., looking around the room as though seeing it for the first time. “Then some other parts are – “

“Magic?” Tenneson supplied, jazz hands included.

Will threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, something like that. So,” he asked, an eyebrow raised. ‘You gonna come? To our party Thursday night?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Will,” she said, blowing out a breath. “That would mean I have to be social.”

“Yes, that’s typically the point of a party.” He gave her a winning smile, reaching out again and squeezing her bicep before dropping his hand and turning to leave. “Think about it, okay?” he said, turning back to her out in the hall. “It’ll be lots of fun. Costume is required, but beyond that, food, drinks, plenty of light…” he waved his hand at the fixtures she’d already installed in the room before he’d come down.

She grinned. “Look, after I’m done here I’m headed to the third floor to do the home offices. When I’m done I’ll find you guys and let you know. Okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll take it. Have fun!” he exclaimed before disappearing into the darkness beyond, leaving Tenneson alone again.

“Oh yeah,” she muttered. “Oodles.”


After making a quick trip back to her truck to grab a few more things she thought she might need upstairs, she entered the room to the left, Dean’s office, and dropped her heavy load on the wood subflooring at the center of the room.

Hands on hips, she took a small tour of the room, noting the sun was beginning to fall outside, the late October day growing cold, the heavy, wet feeling of snow in the air. Blowing out a breath, she began going around the walls of the room, looking to see what electrical work was done, what did she need to avid or simply dip into.

She noted a few places as she made her way past the bank of windows and towards the open door. Reaching out, she absently took hold of the door and swung it towards a closed position, though didn’t fully close it, in order to see behind it. She nearly lost a finger as the door was yanked out of her grasp and slammed shut – BAM! 


Heart nearly pounding out of her chest, Tenneson brought a shaky hand up to run through her hair, trying to calm herself before she reached for the door handle. Nothing. It wouldn’t turn, wouldn’t move, the door wouldn’t budge.

“Will!” she raised her fist and banged on the solid wood. “Dean! The door’s stuck!” When she heard nothing, a bark of laughter escaped her throat, ore out of nervousness of her predicament than any sort of amusement. She froze, however, when she heard a soft, but firm female voice say –

“It’s not stuck, darling,” accompanied by slow, purposeful footsteps.

Tenneson whirled around, her back slamming against the hard door behind her. Slowly walking towards her was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, She wore a deep purple satin robe, belted lightly at the waist, though a bit of cleavage could be seen in the deep “vee” of the bodice. Her long, chestnut brown hair was brushed to a shine and fell over one shoulder. Somehow she knew it was odd to see her with her hair down as such, but instead it should be pulled back and plated. Her eyes were dark as night, and bore into Tenneson.

With every step she took, the bare, partial-construction zone behind her dissolved into a large bedchamber, shadows dancing about the fabric-covered walls by the plethora of lit candles and sconces. The centerpiece of the room was a massive fourposter bed it’s curtains pulled back to reveal a nest of pillows.

“When I sent Romulus out to fetch me a girl for entertainment tonight,” she said, reaching Tenneson. “I secretly hoped he’d fetch me you.”

Tenneson’s heart was pounding, the pulse in her throat throbbing with the mixture of fear, confusion and anxiety that swam through her. She tried to speak, but nothing came out, her mouth dry, throat like the Sahara. 

“I’ve been watching you, you know,” the woman continued, her voice a bit of a deeper register, sultry. She reached out a hand and, to Tenneson’s utter shock, realized she was wearing a simple white tunic, which the woman ran a teasing finger up and down the large opening down her side, a fingernail a ghost of a touch along the left side of Tenneson’s left breast, giving her a new realization, she was naked beneath the tunic. “Ever since the day I saw you standing in line at the slave market, waiting for your turn to step up on that block.”

Tenneson couldn’t move, stood stock still as the woman, a bit taller than she, looked down at her, gaze piercing. She met those dark eyes, affected by them. Her entire body was affected by this woman and the preposterous situation she found herself in. All she could think of was, she’d taken a pretty good shock while working on the wiring in Dean and Wills house, and this was a crazy, fevered dream.

Without another word, the robed woman took Tenneson’s hand in a soft, warm one and tugged gently, letting her know she was to follow. She was led to the bed, her heart beginning to pound even faster. She had no idea what was going on, but was quickly finding herself caring less and less as her body responded to the sensuality this woman all but oozed.

“Are you scared?” the woman asked, glancing at Tenneson from over her shoulder as they made their journey across the candlelit room.

Tenneson couldn’t speak. Instead, she nodded slightly, even as she meant to shake her head. The woman said nothing, merely gave her a small smile before facing front once more.

Once they reached the side of the massive bed, the woman stopped their momentum and released Tenneson’s hand and turned to face her. She made brief eye contact with Tenneson before she reached out and gathered the thin material of her tunic, gathering the length in her fists before she whipped the garment up and over Tenneson’s head. She shook her head to free her hair, the sensations sending a shiver down her spine her naked flesh erupting in goosebumps.

Tenneson’s breath was stolen right from her lungs when the woman’s hand reached up and cupped her right breast just before her head bowed and a hot tongue swiped over her hard nipple. As she tried to catch her breath, the woman took a small step back and, while staring Tenneson in the eye, she brushed the belt of her robe aside, the fabric falling open to reveal gorgeous breasts at first, then a beautiful body as the robe slid down her arms and puddled at her bare feet on the floor. Womanly curves that begged to be touched and licked came into view, as well as something else.

Tenneson’s gaze fell to the object attached to the woman’s hips, jutting out from her body. It was covered in black leather and, as she looked at it, the woman’s hand came into her view as it reached out taking Tenneson’s hand in hers once more. Tenneson’s fingers were guided to the phallus, automatically wrapping around its girth. The woman’s hips thrust ever-so-slightly forward, whether it was a primal need or a subtle hint of what was to come, Tenneson did not know.

She could feel the woman’s nearness as her face was lightly – almost lovingly – caressed then cupped just before the woman moved in, initiating a very slow, very luxurious kiss. Tenneson responded, of its own accord, her hand lightly stroking the dong. It was making her wet as she imagined exactly where it would be going.

The kiss deepened, but the woman kept control of it, never allowing it to get away from her or to get too messy or too passionate. It remained slow, deeply sultry and served to ignite every pore of Tenneson’s body. Her very being felt as though it bad been lit on fire by one of the many dozens of candles that surrounded them.

Finally, the woman pulled away, leaving a last swipe of her tongue to Tenneson’s bottom lip, reminiscent of the swipe to her nipple moments before. She moved to the bed and climbed on, crawling over to the center of the massive mattress before lying on her side, head resting in an upturned palm. She patted the bed next to her in invitation.

Feeling like molten want, Tenneson climbed onto the bed, crawling over to her unexpected companion, sliding in next to her on her side, mirroring the woman’s position. Their kiss continued as the woman’s hand began to roam over Tenneson’s side and over her hip to cup her behind before gliding up her back. The touch was smooth and warm and felt incredible, leaving tingles along the way.

She sighed into the warm mouth that covered hers, relishing in the softness of the tongue that stroked her own. Without question, she turned to her side to her back when she felt that velvety hand push lightly on her shoulder. Falling back into the softness beneath them, her companion rolled partially with her, her left breast pressing against Tenneson’s. She could feel the phallus pressing against the side of her thigh, as well.

As the hot, wet mouth left her own, Tenneson’s head fell to the side as that same mouth began to explore her throat, one hand covering her breast before nimble fingers began to play with her nipple, sending sensations washing through her body. She let out a long sigh as her back arched, moaning as that talented mouth found her other nipple. That man turned into a downright obscene groan as that mouth moved lower.

Her legs were gently pushed open and the woman’s shoulders were settled between them. The first long, slow swipe of that hot tongue running through Tenneson’s most private place of need urged a long, languid sigh from her lips, her hips beginning to move with the steady lapping of the tongue on her clit, which was rock hard.

She reached her hand down, intending to twine her fingers in dark hair, but instead her hand was met with the other woman’s hand, their fingers entwining. She heard the woman humm just a moment before she felt it against her flesh, eliciting a soft gasp. She tried to move her hips a bit faster, intimating her need, which though was certainly rising, she needed more pressure, more speed to get her to where she desperately wanted to go.

Rather than do as silently asked, the woman pulled away, making Tenneson groan in nearly painful disappointment. That disappointment was short-lived, however, as the sexy woman, like a panther climbing over her prey, moved over Tenneson’s body, easing her hips into place as held her upper body up on her hands.

Tenneson’s hands went to the woman’s waist as she looked up into those dark eyes, trying to keep her own eyes open as the woman easily slid the phallus inside her volcanic depths. She pressed down on the woman’s smooth back, easing her to rest on her forearms as she slowly rolled her hips, the phallus just barely moving in and out, stroking Tenneson from the inside with a lover’s caress.

Her fingers finally buried themselves in the woman’s hair as they began to kiss, the lazy slide of tongue against tongue and lips against lips reminiscent of the lazy rhythm of the cock inside her wetness. She could taste herself on the woman’s tongue, but that thought lasted only a moment as the woman pulled her hips all the way back, nearly pulling out of Tenneson, only to slowly push all the way inside, repeating the move a few times before she began to rock against Tenneson again, though her thrusts were a bit longer than before, the phallus gliding easily.

The woman leaned on one forearm as her other one reached back behind her, hand gripping Tenneson’s thigh and urging it up higher on the woman’s hip.. When Tenneson obliged, raising both knees, the woman rewarded her by running her fingernails along the outside of Tenneson’s thigh and to her hip, making Tenneson groan. The five points of sensation added to her growing pleasure.

Tenneson had never been kissed like she was by this seeming-phantom lover. The way the woman moved, the way she used her entire body to caress hers, the movement of her hips like rolling water, increasing Tenneson’s excitement and need with each stroke deep inside.

The woman broke the kiss and hugged Tenneson to her, her hot, quickening breaths on Tenneson’s neck as her hips quickened their pace. They moved together, Tenneson’s ankles locked at the small of the woman’s back. She clung to the woman atop her, her eyes closing as she felt her pleasure building to dangerous levels. To her surprise, the woman released their tight, grounding hug and pushed up to her hands, the muscles in her triceps and shoulders pronounced slightly as she leant the gained power to her hips,, which pounded into Tenneson.

Fingers like talons, Tenneson gripped the woman’s shoulders, holding on as her body was about to let go. Her back arched, head flew back and release erupted from her throat as she came, the woman’s cock continuing to pound into her until her voice grew hoarse, her entire body vibrating with the intensity of her orgasm.

Tenneson held on as she was held close until her body calmed down, her heart relinquishing its threat to explode out of her chest.

After many moments, Tenneson felt cold as the body atop her moved away. Her legs fell to the bed, feeling far more like Jell-O than flesh, bone and muscle. Arms flung out from her sides and chest still heaving a bit, she stared up into the shadows that was the ceiling, though she had no idea how far up. It felt like infinity and beyond.

As her body purred with ultimate contentment, she thought of the woman who had just made love to her in a way she’d never dreamed possible, the feelings she’d brought out of her in an act Tenneson had done many times before.

She felt a warm touch to her arm and heard a soft, “Hey.”

Tenneson’s head whipped around, eyes wide as she came face to face with Will… Standing… In the foyer of his house… Next to her.

Tenneson blinked rapidly, her hand flying up to her chest, feeling something metal beneath her fingertips. Looking down, she saw that she wore a broach of some sort. She tried to take in just exactly what she was dressed in when Dean’s loud, all-attention-grabbing voice startled her.

“Girl!” he exclaimed, sashaying over to Will and herself, dressed as what seemed to be a gladiator, replete with a foam suit to make him look massively muscular. “You totally took to heart the theme of our party!” He reached out a hand, lightly fingering the material of her garment. “Sexy. Were we going for a little Cleopatra action?”

“I…” Tenneson had no idea what to say, no words for her confusion.

“Well, isn’t that perfect since we seem to have us a sexy little gender-bending Caesar!” Will said, stepping aside to allow the woman headed their way to enter their little group.

Sure enough, a woman with short dark hair wearing the laurel wreath of historic claim, her bangs hanging slightly in her face, utterly charmingly. Her white toga with purple trimmings to denote the societal stance. What got her, though had nothing to do with the impressive costume. It was her eyes.

“You,” Tenneson breathed, heart nearly leaping out of her chest as her clit seized up embarrassingly. She swallowed and tried to look away, but those dark, dark eyes had her pinned.

“Oh, you know each other?” Will asked, looking from woman to woman.

“I…” Tenneson shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face. “I, uh….”

“Tenny,” Dean said, taking one of Tenneson’s hands, “this is Mason Wilkes, she was the interior designer who did this masterpiece for our Halloween party. I mean,” he smirked, “Who knew anyone could turn the downstairs boudoir into a harem worthy of any movie set?”

Tenneson glanced over at him. “Harem? Are we in Rome, Egypt or India?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed with a dramatic wave of his hand. “Mason,” he continued, grabbing ‘Julius Caesar’s’ hand, tugging her a bit towards them. “This is Tenneson Monroe, our friend and electrician and a little hottie, if you ask me,” he stage whispered,, leaning in towards the taller woman, a sparkle in his eyes as he kept his gaze on Tenneson.

“It’s an absolute pleasure,” Mason said, extending her hand, her voice one that Tenneson instantly recognized, the lower timbre making her tummy flip.

Tenneson took the hand, finally able to look away from those eyes and, to her, it felt like finally able to breathe. “Hello,” she said softly. The hand that took hers was warm and soft, gentle yet firm. Tenneson’s gaze went from their hands back to the woman’s face when she heard that voice again.

“I know we’ve never met, but strangest thing.”

Tenneson cocked her head slightly in question. “What’s that?”

“You were in a dream I had the other night,” Mason said. “I swear it was you.”

“Hmm,” Dean said, resting an elbow on his husband’s shoulder, Will dressed as a Centurion guard. “Guess it must be a little … magic,” he whispered dramatically, winking at Tenneson before swiftly turning on a sandal-clad foot and sashaying off into the throng of party goers.

The end