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The Magic Lamp - Part One

Miriam had worked for an antique dealer for the past three years. Her job mainly consisted of visiting estates that her boss had purchased at foreclosure auctions and searching through those buildings for valuable antiques. She always found her job interesting but there was one particular day at work that she would never forget.

She had been rummaging through a large attic in an old Victorian mansion. The owner had more than likely been a world traveler. He had definitely been a collector of many intriguing artifacts. There were medieval suits of armor, Civil War swords and rifles, African tribal masks, Aztec sundials, and other ancient relics. But, as far as Miriam was concerned, none compared to the small brass object that she discovered that afternoon in the bottom of the dusty steamer trunk.

It looked like a squashed teakettle. A big handle at one end with a thin spout at the other. It had strange foreign script etched along its tarnished brass sides. Miriam turned it over in her hands trying to determine exactly what it was. She eventually realized that it was some kind of very old oil lamp. She moistened her thumb with a little spit and rubbed the inscription on the side of the lantern hoping to remove some of the grime.

“What’s the use? Not likely to be worth a helluva lot anyway...” she said to herself and was about to toss it aside and check out the old musket that lay nearby when she suddenly felt the lamp get warm. She looked down at it and it seemed to shine brighter as if the tarnish was disappearing. Strange, she thought. When it began to vibrate in her hands she dropped it and jumped backward falling onto a tarpaulin covered love seat. A cloud of dust was driven up from the surface of the drop-cloth. As the lamp laid on the attic floor in front of her a wisp of blue smoke escaped from its spout. The smoke spiraled upward getting wider the further away from the lamp it rose. At once the image of a tall man appeared within the swirl of smoke. As his features became more distinct the smoke faded. There he stood in front of her, barefoot on the attic floor. Bronze skinned, striking and tall with a small turban upon his head. Bare-chested except for an open silk vest and wearing what looked like baggy silk pajama pants.

“How did you do that?!” exclaimed Miriam while at the same time desperately trying to figure out if she was dreaming or not.

“Greetings, Mistress. I am your genie.” The stranger bowed at the waist. Miriam was silent for a moment then began to laugh heartily. “Oh, you bastard! Where are you? I know one of your tricks when I see one!” She suspected that her friend George had set her up. She looked around the attic expecting George to emerge from behind one of the crates.

“OK. Enough is enough, George. You really got me there for a moment. So come on out now.”

After a minute of awkward silence and no appearance of George, she asked the genie, “How much did he pay you?”

“No one has paid me. I am your genie. I am here to grant you three wishes.” He stood expressionless and at attention in front of her, his head nearly touching the rafters.

“OK then. I’ll play,” still not believing that George wasn’t hiding somewhere in the attic. “For my first wish,” she smiled mischievously, “I would like to have the greatest, most fantastic orgasm of my life.” Now if that doesn’t get George to show his face nothing will, she thought to herself.

The genie smiled. His eyes seemed to sparkle. Miriam wondered why she hadn’t noticed those sexy eyes before. He raised his hands above his head to remove his turban, showing the sleek muscularity of his arms. He stepped toward her. Taking her hands in his he pulled her up off the divan. As they stood face to face in the quiet attic, he reached behind her head and removed her hair clip letting her long hair fall to her shoulders. He ran his fingers through her hair and lowered his head to hers. She could feel his warm breath on her neck. He kissed it. Goosebumps ran up her arms. His lips felt so soft and warm on her skin. She could feel the tip of his warm tongue sliding along her neck and up to her ear. She wondered how long George would allow this to go on. He kissed her ear. Hmmm, that feels good. Nibbling and sucking on her lobe. Before she knew it, his lips were on hers. His tongue slipped into her mouth. It moved about, flitting here and there, sliding over and under her tongue, exploring every part of her mouth. God what a kisser! She began to feel warm.

As the genie so passionately kissed Miriam, he placed one of his hands on the front of her man tailored shirt and with nimble fingers unbuttoned each of its buttons in quick succession. He pulled the shirt’s tails up out of her jeans then slid it back over her shoulders where it fell off her arms and onto the floor. She quickly forgot about George when the genie without hesitation unlatched her bra with one hand and removed it. He pulled his lips from hers and lowered his head to her chest. Cupping his big hands around her breasts he carefully massaged them -- squeezing them tenderly and rolling her very erect nipples between his fingertips. She gasped as he began to lick one of her hard nubs. He sucked it into his mouth and played with it with his magic tongue -- lifting the nipple up, then pushing it down, then slapping it side to side with his tongue. She moaned helplessly as he suckled her left breast and massaged the right with his gentle hand. Switching back and forth several times. She felt the moisture gathering between her legs.

And while the genie tended to Miriam’s breasts he continued to undress her. Slipping the toes of his bare feet into the openings of her sneakers he tugged them both off. She willingly raised her feet to help. He swiftly unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped them, slid them down off her hips, and let them fall to the floor. She quickly stepped out of them. Her legs began to wobble as she stood there in the dimly lit attic holding the genie’s head to her bosom, her fingers laced in his silky black hair. With every move of his tongue a warm tingle flowed through her body.

I’m so close and he hasn’t even touched me there!

She touched herself and felt how wet the crotch of her cotton panties had gotten in such a short time. She exhaled a shuttering breath and moaned.

The genie lifted his head from her breasts. Quickly he pulled the tarp off the love seat and guided Miriam backward onto it. As she sat down on the soft cushions he knelt before her, grabbed hold of her panties by the sides, his fingertips under the elastic, and pulled them toward him. She raised herself up to help. Her underwear rolled inside out as the genie slid them down over her legs. Staring into her eyes and smiling, he nudged her legs apart. She followed his prompt and spread them wide.

Oh yes. Do it. Do it, PLEASE!

He ran his hands slowly up the insides of her thighs without taking his eyes off hers. Tenderly massaging her legs with his fingertips he worked his way upward. She gasped when he touched her pussy. Closing her eyes and biting down on her lip she whimpered. He ran his fingers over her mound squeezing and caressing it. One of his fingers slipped into her moist slit. She moaned. He wiggled it around and fondled her vulva smearing her slick juices all over. As she squirmed under his touch, he spread her lips apart and held her open. Then lowered his head down between her legs. Yes. Yes! His long tongue dipped into her wet crease. “Hmmmmmm,” she groaned and raised her hips up. He dragged his tongue upward and licked her pussy with broad strokes. Flicking it quickly up and down, then side to side. He playfully tugged on her lips with his mouth, pulling and sucking on the loose flaps of pink flesh. Then he slid his tongue back into her slippery slit. When his tongue circled her clit she screamed, “Oh yes!” Her legs tensed. A quivering sensation spread over her body. With a spastic jerk she thrust her pussy up into his face, clutching his head there tightly. She writhed about as the tip of his tongue flicked quickly back and forth across the surface of her swollen clit. Her orgasm washed over her like waves crashing onto the beach -- surging and ebbing then surging once more. Wrapping her legs around his head, grinding her pussy into his wonderful tongue, she held him there and he obliged her by licking and sucking her pussy, kissing it and wiggling his tongue in it until her orgasm finally quelled and she collapsed against the back of the love seat.

She lay back exhausted, throbbing all over, and watched as if in a dream while he stood and smiled down on her. His chin shiny wet with her juice. As he backed away from her, he seemed to fade and then disappeared into the brass lamp on the dusty floor.

She sat there naked in the silent attic. The only sound was that of her breathing. For a fleeting moment she thought that she might have dreamed it all. Then she touched herself and felt the wetness there and saw the huge wet spot on the sofa cushion where her juice and his saliva had dripped and she smiled. She never had an orgasm so intense or so prolonged. She looked down at the lantern. Well, I certainly did have my wish granted!

“I’m keeping that lamp!” she declared...

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © © 2014 Phillip Fogticus. No part of this material may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

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