Lucy Ashwood

A Tarot Reading

Caroline opened the door, and the bells attached to it chimed.  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but the interior looked exactly as she expected.  The fortune teller’s shop was dimly lit  with lots of beaded curtains and the heavy scent of incense. A large shelf dominated the space.  Caroline looked over the items, mostly crystals and candles.  She raised a brow at candles shaped like cocks and vulvas.

“You must be Caroline” a man’s voice drifted over her.

Caroline jumped, tearing her eyes away from the sexual candles.  She turned and was momentarily speechless.  He wasn’t what she expected.  He was young, maybe ten years younger than her 35.  And he was, by almost any standards, hot.  She snapped her mouth shut when she realized she was gaping at him.  He was the image of tall, dark, and handsome.

“Um, hi. Yes, I’m Caroline” she fumbled over her words.  She offered her hand, feeling lost in his dark eyes.

He smiled at her and took her hand.  He led her toward the table, and gestured for her to sit.  As he took his in chair he asked, “Is this your first time?”

Caroline found herself gazing at his full lips, wondering what kind of kisser he was.  It took her a second to realize that he was talking. “Um, no. Ah, yes. Yes, this is my first tarot reading.”

He seemed to be laughing at her. “Well, I promise to be gentle.” He replied and quickly shuffled a well worn deck of cards.  He laid out three cards face down. “Ready?” He asked.

Caroline swallowed, slowly licking her lips. Her eyes followed his strong hands as they flipped the first card.  The incense grew thicker.

Caroline stared at the card. She never expected something so explicit!  The card bore the image of a woman sitting on a table, while a man knelt before her performing cunnilingus.  Caroline’s face burned.  She blinked, and the card changed into an image of a group of people at what looked like a Renaissance Faire dancing between four staves.  “What the hell?” She muttered.

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Manara Tarot

“Is something wrong?” He asked, his voice low.  His eyes seemed to glint in the darkness.

Caroline glanced back at the card, and the Queen of Cunnilingus was back.  Caroline felt herself stand and lean against the table, mimicking the woman on the card.  Without a word, the psychic went to his knees.

The psychic’s hands curled around Caroline’s bare calves.  His palms gliding over her skin reaching the hem of her tight black skirt.  He slowly slid the skirt up, exposing her panties.  He leaned forward, inhaling her scent.

He slipped his fingers into her panties, lowering them down. Caroline stepped out of them, leaning farther back on the table.  She opened her legs wider, her thoughts recalling the vulva candle.

He kissed her mons. His tongue delved between her open legs, lapping at her length.  Caroline leaned back, supporting her weight in her hands.  She watched him on his knees.

His tongue toyed with her clit, twirling it around.  Caroline sighed softly.  He continued his exploration.  He stiffened his tongue, using it to probe at the entrance to get vagina.  This time she moaned and let her head fall back.

He chuckled softly and returned to her clit.  He teased, and toyed, and finally sucked softly in the nub.  Caroline thrust her hips against his face.  The rough stubble of his beard bristled against her thighs.  She was on the edge, only to hear someone call her name.

“Caroline?” The psychic’s voice broke through her thoughts, “are you ready for the next card?”

She blinked staring at the Renaissance Fair image again.  The Queen was no longer on the table.  “Um, sure, I guess” she mumbled.

He smiled, “let’s see what comes up next.”

She nodded slowly.  She wasn’t sure what had happened, but she was looking forward to the next card.

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30 comments

  7. I have 11 tarot decks. I don’t know how to read them and have never had a reading, but I love the art. I will never look at them the same again. I enjoyed your story and discovered I was squeezing myself while I read.

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  18. […] The cards led Caroline to this hotel and this meeting.  She hesitated outside of the bar, reminding herself that she could back out if she wanted.  Peter, her psychic, had helped her arrange everything.  She’d negotiated, via email, everything she wanted.  Only now that she was here, she wasn’t sure if she could do it.  But the cards hadn’t led her astray yet.  So she squared her shoulders and took her first step toward the bar. […]

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