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We’re about forty minutes into the movie playing on the big screen of the outdoor cinema. I know because I’ve been looking at the time every five-fucking-minutes. Not because I’m not enjoying watching Casablanca, but because I’ve had a constant semi since I went to get her from the studio.
I can’t seem to calm myself.
“Fun fact, I chose my last identity because of her,” Annika whispers. “I was in love with the old movies when I was a kid, and Ingrid Bergman was stunning. I wanted to be like her.”
When I finally think I’m over it, her melodic giggle fills me, and my cock responds all over again. Then she gives me those pretty steel-blue eyes, looking more steel than blue in this light, and I can’t help but imagine them painted with ecstasy.
What is wrong with me today?!
The movie moves into a flashback of Rick and Ilsa riding happily on the streets of Paris, their connection suddenly explained, when Annika whispers she’s just going to the ladies’ room, before she gives me a quick peck on the cheek.
She rises from the blanket and moves carefully around the ones of the other people watching the movie, heading to the edge of the clearing of the small forest. I watch her as she disappears through the door of the bathroom set up at the far end of the area, luckily not that far away, as we didn’t want to be in the middle of the crowd. But Bergman and Bogart distract me when the man himself speaks one of the most iconic lines in cinematic history.
I’ve seen this movie before, but Annika was so excited when she heard that not only was there an outdoor cinema in our small town, but it was playing Casablanca today as well, that I knew I had no choice but to watch it all over again. If only just to see the giddiness in her eyes.
The flashback scene ends, but my wife is not back yet.
I turn and look toward the bathrooms—no movement, no sign of her. As I drag my gaze over the area, I spot her, walking alongside the edge of the forest. She stops halfway, turning to me when she sees me watching her.
Just like that, my world flips on its axis all over again when the woman gives me her most wicked smile, and there’s no denying my cock anymore. Then her dress becomes a fluttering whirlwind as she whips around and disappears through the trees.
You wanted excitement, little witch… let’s see how much of it you can take.
ANNIKA
I thought I would hide behind a tree and wait to make sure he saw me, that he was on my trail. But I seem to have underestimated the man who is stalking toward me with a fierce gaze promising something so wicked, my feet burn with the need to run.
So I do.
I take off through the forest, the soft ground kind to my feet as I jump over small obstacles made of branches and rocks.
Humphrey Bogart’s voice is a faint echo, the trees far enough apart that the light of the film flashes between them, and my feet seem to be moving in a strange slow motion. Goosebumps scatter over my skin, Ronan’s feral gaze burning my flesh, my pussy slick with his silent promises as my thighs rub together.
Each heavy thump of his footsteps sends shivers up my spine, wrapping around my neck, tightening like his hand is there instead.
“Is this what you want, little witch? For me to chase you? Fuck that little cunt of yours and make you come with my name on your lips?” His tone is lower, harsher, a surreal echo through the woods. “Well, you better fucking work for it, because you don’t seem to want it hard enough.”
His voice is suddenly closer, the rustling of leaves and thumping of footsteps nearer, and with a yelp, I pick up the pace, a surge of adrenaline rippling through me.
I change direction, falling into the darkness of a thicket of trees, and I catch my breath in their shelter. He stops too, but not near me.
He doesn’t see me.
“Come out, come out wherever you are…” he taunts, walking in my direction, as he looks all around.
A smile pulls at my lips—I can play with him. Only, that thought is squashed in an instant when he sprints right toward me, and leaps between the trees. I yelp and dart out of the way, but one arm wraps around my middle, pulling me into his body. Grabbing his forearm, I push it away, squirming and kicking. He pulls me harder, my back against him, so I dig my heels into the ground and push back. But he’s a mountain, barely moving at all. When he chuckles at my feeble attempt, I give it one last shove. He loses his footing slightly, enough that his grip loosens just enough. I screech and take off into a sprint in the opposite direction, a raging roar splitting the soundwaves, making my wetness drip down my thighs.
The light of the film is brighter, but I can’t tell if I’m running toward the clearing where the cinema is, or alongside it. I can’t focus on it when this adrenaline burns so sweet.
“You’re gonna fucking pay for that, witch!” His grunts send shivers through my body because, yes, please…
“Make me!” I shout.
I turn my head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse behind me as I skip over the fallen branches, and see the man himself, so much closer than I thought he was.
Instinctively, I shriek, a strange sort of fear infused exhilaration breaking apart inside of me. When my foot catches onto something, I snap my head back to look in front of me and manage to fix my balance, the much brighter lights of the movie helping me find my feet.
