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Aurora came with a loud scream, and I held her in place as she rode the waves of it while I kept the pressure on her nub. I wanted a second and knew Aurora had it in her to give it to me. My mouth refused to relent.
Once more, her legs tightened as she orgasmed a second time, even while she’d hardly finished experiencing the first. Aurora collapsed into a boneless pile, and I pulled her against me.
That had to be one of the hottest experiences I’d ever encountered. By the look of Aurora, she was thinking similarly. Just as I’d believed, under the shy exterior, was a wildcat. And she was all mine.
Chapter Five.
Klutz
Iheard Aurora speaking softly as I woke up slowly. After our session last night, we’d finished eating and then retired to bed. I’d made her come three more times using my fingers and tongue, and while we weren’t having full-on sex, I couldn’t remember enjoying myself so much.
I’d woken to an empty bed and wondered what was up. There had been a moment’s doubt that she’d run from me, embarrassed by last night. That was before I slapped myself. This was her home; she wouldn’t leave. That was when I heard her. She sounded annoyed, so I walked to the door and saw her in the hallway.
“Yes, I confirm I have the Sanderson Ouija board,” Aurora said.
She listened carefully and shook her head.
“No, I am very sorry. It’s not for sale. No, it is a dangerous object, and I couldn’t possibly consider selling it,” she replied.
My eyes narrowed as the customer became pushy.
“I apologise. There is nothing you could offer me to sell that cursed item. I am the protector of it and the curse, and I wouldn’t sell for any amount of money. The Sanderson Ouija board is dangerous, and history has proven that. And the fact you want it, even knowing some of its dark past, raises alarm bells. So, my final answer is no.” Aurora hung up and turned to smile at me.
“Okay?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Pushy bitch who thinks that a cursed object holds the power she desperately needs. At the end of the day, she can’t have it!” Aurora promised.
“What is it?” I urged as she wandered back to bed and curled up into my side as I followed her.
“An ancient item. It dates from 14thcentury England, and there are rumours it may be older than that. It’s a spirit board that belonged to the Sandersons, a family mainly of women who were thought to be witches. One by one, they married, and once providing several children for the ladies of the Sandersons, the husbands disappeared. Many believed the wives poisoned them, but no bodies were discovered, Klutz.”
“They sound adorable,” I said dryly.
“They were anything but. Numerous murders and curses were laid at their feet, and slowly the family got picked off one by one. They were hung, drowned, and burned at the stake in two instances. But the core lived until the 17thcentury when locals drugged them at a gathering and put them in a barn. It didn’t matter if they were male, female, or children; they were all placed there and then the building was set alight. That day, over forty people were killed.”
“Jeez!” I exclaimed as a chill ran down my back. Those days were complete lunacy.
“Three women escaped with two babes. They cursed the village never to know happiness and for the land to fail. It’s a fact that many marriages split over the next two hundred years, well above the national average. And it’s even more unusual because divorce was widely frowned upon. Surprisingly, once fertile farmland became a bog, the soil turned against crops. Whether or not they were actual witches, the failures surrounding their village were firmly laid at the feet of the Sandersons.”
“We’d be able to explain that shit today,” I said, but I enjoyed the story.
“The locals gathered together to capture the remaining Sandersons who lived in the local woods. They arrived with torches and pitchforks and caught the women outside waiting, standing within a ring of fire. There and then, they laid one last whammy on them. That for five generations, no male child would be born to those present that evening. Considering the entire village had turned out, the curse held great fear. And then the Sanderson’s returned to their home. Once the flames died, it was searched and discovered to be empty! They’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“The village for five generations had no boys. Every child born was a girl,” Aurora stated smugly, and I stared at her in shock.
“Seriously?” I demanded, and Aurora nodded.
“It’s called the Village of the Cursed in England. The real name is Little Westfield, but no one calls it that. It is a huge tourist attraction over there, much like our Salem, but the truth of the matter is proven. Fertile fields turned into bogs overnight, marriages split at an alarming rate, and no male child was delivered for five generations. Scientists and doctors could find nothing wrong with them. The men held both boy and girl sperm, shall we say? However, no boys were born for over a hundred and fifty years.”
“Holy fuck,” I said, stunned. “What happened to the Sandersons?”
“They fled to America but got ill and died after two generations. Their items were put up for sale, and that meant the spirit board. But those who bought and used it often found terrible things happening to them. Entire families became sick; they lost their wealth mysteriously, and men watched their wives and children suffer before death. In each instance, the bad luck only began when the Sanderson Ouija board arrived in the household.”
“Aurora, if this crap is so awful, why do you have it?” I demanded. No, I didn’t believe in woo-woo shit, but I wanted nothing to hurt Aurora. And it sounded like there were too many coincidences for this Ouija board to be benign.
“Because it came into my guardianship by accident,” Aurora replied.
