“I’ll do anything,” he whispered in a deep, soft voice. “Anything, absolutely anything you want …” A faint look of surprise spread across his face, as he realized what he was saying.
“A love type..love potion” He said lamely, not liking to be the butt of some joke. “You mean there are different types?” She chuckled softly under her breath. An evil sound that could make neck hairs stand up on end, and arouse other parts as well. “Of Course. Just as there are many different types of love. There are many different potions to bring it about” She leaned forward in her chair, nailing him with her dark blue hypnotic eyes.
He was so overwhelmed by the sensations, by Bridget’s words and naked beauty and raw animal sexual scent, that it didn’t seem to be really happening to him. His body was on auto-pilot, acting and responding without his direction. Falling now into the embrace of her arms and legs, so that to sight and sound and smell was added the enveloping sensation of touch, of her soft, smooth, warmth surrounding him.
One day, when his tune was ended, a female voice spoke out, from the darkness of the trees. “That was beautiful. Play me another. It would please me if you did.”
The old man peered into the darkness, straining to see who had spoken. After a moment she appeared, taking a step from behind the nearest tree. As she moved into the glade the sun ignited her hair and the old man’s breath caught.