Read Hansel and Gretel With the Sexual Hunter Online
Authors: Liz Adams
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica
Marissa lowered the rifle. Examined the barrel and
grip, and all that the tool stood for in her life. She made a firm decision.
Time to make some passports.
***
Gretel felt relief by the middle of the night. Hansel
did have sex with her. It took a night of dinner and dancing to get him
started, but once she felt him grinding his hard-on against her on the dance
floor, they almost didn’t get to his bedroom fast enough before he was pumping
inside of her.
The sex was frantic, passionate. Gretel knew that any
question of his sexual orientation was folly. Until the conversation that was
to follow.
In bed, Gretel breathed deep to catch her breath. Her
pussy was still buzzing. Hansel’s cum still dripped from inside of her onto the
sheets.
Hansel asked, “Have you ever…been with a woman?”
The question shocked her. Why was he asking? Sure, she
had one or two exploratory fantasies growing up, but she never experienced, and
would never allow herself to experience, lesbian sex. But that wasn’t why he
was asking.
“No,” Gretel said. She had never been with a woman. And
she knew that the real reason he asked was because he wanted her to ask him if
he had ever been with a man. That was one conversation she was just not ready
for, yet.
He seemed to be waiting for Gretel to say more. To ask
that question. She said nothing. Kissed him goodnight and turned over in bed.
***
Hansel had trouble sleeping. When he had asked Gretel
if she had been with another woman, he was hoping she’d say yes. The idea of
seeing her with another woman was so hot. He would have loved to hear stories
about the bouts of lesbian sex she had. And she hesitated, as if she was going
to say something more. Was she keeping it a secret from him? Did she think he
would be displeased if she had been with women?
Hansel heard a sound coming from the apartment door.
Clicks sounded as if there was something going on with the lock. Did the door
just open? Hansel quietly slipped out from the bed. Gretel was fast asleep.
Fantasies of slipping his cock in her mouth popped in his head and then just as
quickly popped out when images chimed in of her sneezing her teeth closed onto
his dick.
The moonlight creeping through the windows made
everything in the apartment easy to see. He made his way to the living room and
looked around. Nothing.
He turned to the kitchen. An arm grabbed him from
behind and planted a smelly cloth over his mouth. Hansel fought, but the arm
kept a strong hold over his mouth and he felt dizzy. A sleep he couldn’t ignore
took over. He submitted to the darkness.
***
A sharp odor hit him to consciousness.
Hansel squinted his eyes open, working to get
accustomed to the light.
“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” a female voice said. “Pardon
the smelling salts, but they get the job done.”
Where was he? The surroundings looked
familiar. An aroma of spices and sugar began to replace the stink of the
smelling salts. He recognized the factory. His candy store.
And he was tied to a chair.
His heart beat faster. Tugging at the thin
ropes only proved how taught they were. “What the hell?”
Some redheaded woman in a black spandex catsuit
with a zipper in the front stood before him. The catsuit accentuated her full
breasts, narrow waist, firm ass, and a line between the front of her thighs so
tight he could see the cleft of her pussy. Actually, this could prove to be
interesting. Was this a game Gretel devised? Where was Gretel? He turned his
head and saw Gretel wide-eyed sitting beside him. She was tied up in her own
chair, squirming inside her white blouse and red skirt against the binds.
The woman in the catsuit pointed a finger at Gretel
when addressing her. “Remember what I said about talking to your man.” She
pounced upon the counter where Hansel prepared the store’s confections, and she
stepped along the marble top past the small plastic buckets of chocolate chips,
caramel chips, peanut butter cups, to the maraschino cherries.
Gretel looked like she wanted to tell him
something, but her eyes darted to Ms. Catsuit and Gretel kept quiet.
“We are going to have so much fun.” The
mysterious woman bent over keeping her legs straight. The way her stance looked
so inviting, Hansel hoped to hell this was planned by Gretel, but a sinking
feeling in his gut suggested it was wishful thinking. After retrieving a
cherry, the woman strutted along the counter like it was a catwalk back to
where they sat.
She hopped onto the floor and leaned against
the counter, placing the cherry between her teeth.
Hansel noticed he and Gretel were both tied in the same
manner, each limb separately bound. One ankle tied to one chair leg, the other
ankle tied to the other front chair leg, the hands tied behind their backs.
Their legs, waist and torso were free, but impossible to move.
He was dressed in his tuxedo. His bow tie draped
undone, and his cumber bun was on upside-down, but other than that, he was
wearing the complete tuxedo perfectly, down to the studs and cufflinks.
Under Gretel’s white blouse and red skirt, she seemed
to also have a bra on. Last he saw her, she was naked in his bed. So how did
they get dressed?
When
did they get
dressed? Hansel wasn’t sure. He had no memory of putting on clothes. But by the
way his bow tie hung loose as a ribbon around his neck and his cumber bun was
on upside down, he knew someone dressed him in these clothes. Someone who didn’t
know how to tie a bow tie. Someone who didn’t know which side of a cumber bun
was right side up.
Ms. Catsuit watched him with a Cheshire grin, keeping
the cherry between her teeth. She must have been enjoying his confusion and
probably had the answer to all his questions. The woman bit down on the cherry,
chewed, and swallowed.
She walked to Gretel’s seat, her hips teasing side
to side. Her beautiful face and sensual movements likely belied her wicked
motives. She bent over to place her face beside’s Gretel’s, both of them facing
me cheek-to-cheek. “Doesn’t she look beautiful in this skirt and blouse? And
you look delicious in that tuxedo. I like my toys gift-wrapped.” She stood up
straight.
“I never could figure
out how to get that bow tie tied properly.” Ms. Catsuit approached Hansel with
a “fuck me” facial expression. “Before I reveal why I have you here, I must
confess that I’ve never had targets as gorgeous as you.”
Targets? “Who are you?” Hansel asked.
“Call me Wicka.” She circled Hansel.
“If
you cooperate with me, I’ll let you go. But the truth is, I’m here to kill you.
Both of you.”
“What?! Why?” Hansel said.
“I’ve been hired to do so.”
Hansel couldn’t believe it. “Who hired you to kill us?”
“That’s the interesting bit. Gretel, your parents? They
hired me to kill Hansel.”
Before Gretel could get a word in, Wicka said “Shush.
Remember. No talking. Hansel?”
“What?”
“Your parents? They hired me to kill Gretel.”
What the hell kind of parents think that killing their
child’s fiancée is a viable solution to stopping a marriage?
“But I have to admit,” Wicka continued. “I have never
had the pleasure of getting an assignment of such exquisite targets.” She
caressed Hansel’s face. Her hand felt warm, gentle. She bent over and whispered
in his ear. “I’ve been watching you shower.” Her hand rested on his knee. “What
were you dreaming of as the water poured down on you?” She moved her hand up
his thigh. Hansel felt his crotch twitch and couldn’t believe it. Was he really
getting turned on in a situation like this? Her hand slid up further. “Did you
dream of being between Gretel’s legs? Between her lips?” Hansel could feel
Wicka’s hot breath become uneven against his ear. She stopped her hand from
venturing further, and squeezed his thigh. “I’m going to save you for dessert.”
How the hell was he going to get out of this?
If there were anyway he could get out of these binds,
he could push her into the huge store facility oven and grill the witch. The
question was, how could he get out of the binds?
Maybe if he built some sort of trust, he could convince
this Wicka woman to release him.
Wicka went to Gretel’s chair. “Do you know how
beautiful you are?” She began to unbutton Gretel’s shirt.
One button undone. She traced her finger down to the
second button.
“I bet you know it.”
Two buttons undone. She traced her finger down to the
third button.
“But has a woman ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Three buttons undone. She traced further down.
Hansel noticed Gretel’s breath getting heavy. Did this
excite her? Terrify her? Hansel felt an uncomfortable history lesson in his
pants. The Battle of the Bulge. It was getting cramped in there.
“What are you feeling right now, Gretel?”
Down, down. Under the hem of Gretel’s skirt, Wicka’s
hand reached and disappeared.
“Are you excited or frightened?”
Hansel could see Wicka’s wrist wiggle as though she
were manipulating her fingers deep under Gretel’s skirt.
“Ooh. You are excited, aren’t you?”
She came back to Hansel.
“And how are you doing down there?” She squeezed his
crotch, putting a firm grip around his hard-on. “You’re doing quite well, I
see.”
Hansel bit back a moan. He couldn’t let Gretel see that
he was turned on.
Wicka said, “How about a blow job, Hansel? Would you
like a blow job from your girl?”
Hansel looked at Gretel. She seemed just as paralyzed
by the situation as he was.
“But you don’t want one, do you? Why is that?”
How did she know, Hansel wondered? By the expression on
Gretel’s face, Gretel seemed to be wondering the same thing.
“Hansel,” Wicka said, “You don’t know what you’re
missing.”
She crouched in front of Gretel. “So how about it, Gretel?
How about you show him what he’s missing?”
She grabbed the back of Gretel’s chair and dragged Gretel
closer to Hansel so that her chair faced his.
“Ready for this, Hansel?”
She tilted Gretel’s chair so that Gretel’s face was
buried in his crotch.
Wicka said, “You’ll need to use your mouth to free his
cock, first.”
Gretel looked up at Hansel as though asking what to do.
Hansel bent as close to her ear as possible. He whispered, “If we gain her
trust, she might free our limbs.”
Wicka grabbed Hansel’s head of hair and Hansel sucked
in his breath when he felt the pain of her yanking back his head. She then
gripped his collar with both hands and popped open his shirt.
“Bad boy.” She ran her hand down his sternum, pecs, and
abs. A current trickled across his chest. “No keeping secrets.” She said to Gretel,
“Now get busy on his cock.”
She pressed Gretel’s face into his crotch. He had a
hard time resisting grinding his waist against his beloved’s lips.
Hansel looked down at his fiancée. Her blouse was
unbuttoned, her breasts inside her white-lace bra rising and falling. That
alone made him need some friction to satisfy his itch.
His breaths intensified as Gretel took his zipper
between her teeth and tugged it down. At first, the zipper seemed to have
trouble moving down with the jerks of her head. She had more success pulling
the zipper down slowly. With his fly open, she nudged at his underwear with her
nose and tongue, scooting the fabric of his boxers aside.
Hansel shifted, trying to help. It worked. His length
popped free from his pants.
Gretel looked up at him. She kissed the base of his
cock. Then again higher up. And again higher up.
Hansel twitched in anticipation. This was crazy. It was
crazy that it took such a desperate situation to live out his fantasy.
She kissed higher. Higher.
His heart pounded at the sexy sight of her. Her lips so
close to the tip of his cock, her blouse wide open, her cleavage shifting with
every breath she took.
She took the tip between her lips.
Hansel exhaled a stuttered breath.
Gretel’s warm tongue stroked the underside of his cock.
The feeling reached his whole body, as though he were suddenly floating in a
bath. She brought him further into her mouth. His butt clenched involuntarily.
He wanted to thrust. He wanted more friction.
She gave it to him. With gentle downward bobs of her
head, she gently touched her bottom teeth to him and tilted her head side to
side as though encircling different parts of him with her teeth.
Hansel moaned. He nearly came right then and there. Not
sure she’d appreciate a mouthful of cum. She was so incredible.
He didn’t know anyone that used their teeth in a blow
job. In fact, he was positive that one of the first things girls learn from
their experienced, frisky girlfriends is to never use teeth in a blow job. Was
it just incredible luck that she managed to push all the right buttons?
Hansel strained hard not to jab down her throat. His
climax was building.
She pushed her head down on him faster. And by the way
she applied her teeth to just the underside of his cock, he knew she wasn’t
just lucky. She knew what worked well in a blow job. He wasn’t about to wonder
how she got so good.
His climax was approaching. There was no stopping it.
“I’m going to come,” he warned her.
She bobbed faster, swirling her tongue all around as
the first spurts shot inside her mouth.
He thrust deeper between her lips and felt a clenching
on his tip as she gagged.
His arms and ankles yanked at their bonds, his muscles
contracting as her hot mouth remained latched onto his cock and filled with his
cum.