Read the entire series here: Caroline’s Tarot Cards
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Caroline fidgeted in her chair, her wetness making her self-conscious. She could still feel the tingle in her pussy, the unsatisfied ache for more.
After the last card, and her daydream or hallucination, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the next card. However, the psychic was already turning the card. His full lips still bore a small smile, almost a smirk.
Caroline was surprised at the flood of disappointment that filled her when a regular card was revealed. There was a figure holding a globe and a walking stick. The psychic’s sensual voice was talking about power, claiming power, empowerment… The tenor of his voice was pure sex, telling her to claim her power, or something. Caroline couldn’t focus on the words.
He moved his hand over the card, to point out some detail, when his hand moved away, the card had changed.
The card now showed two women. One sat in a chair, her legs slung over the arms of the chair. Her pussy was splayed open, on display for a camera crew. She was smiling. The second woman was sitting on some steps, with her knees bent and her legs open as well. She seemed shyer than the woman on the chair, but she still seemed to enjoy herself.
Caroline found herself finally hearing the psychic’s words. He’d said power, and she had felt empowered when the psychic knelt before her and buried his face in her pussy. It had almost felt like worship.
Caroline felt her shoulders pressed up against the back of the chair, and she twitched at the hem of her skirt. She wondered if she would feel powerful with her legs spread wide and her lips open to the psychic, open to a camera.
Once again, she felt the room grown dimmer, the incense a haze creeping over everything. She pulled her skirt up, it slipped over her thighs. She shifted her ass down, feeling the chair’s upholstery on her bare skin. But she’d been wearing panties, she always wore panties. Of course, in her last hallucination the psychic had removed them. If this was another flight of fancy, why shouldn’t it be consistent?
Caroline hesitated a moment, her knees slightly open. To be displayed, no to display herself in such as way was terrifying and oh so arousing. She made eye contact with psychic. He sat as if waiting for her to move. She slid one leg over the chair arm, the cool air of the shop flowed over her bare pussy. She wasn’t quite on display yet, as her skirt cast a shadow and she’d unconsciously shifted her other leg, keeping her legs partially closed.
The psychic waited the card still between them.
Caroline, swallowed, pressed her shoulders back and swung her other leg over the chair arm. She felt her pussy lips stretched open; her wetness must be visible to him. She tilted her pelvis a little more, making pose more open, closer to the woman in the card.
The psychic smiled, breaking eye contact as his gaze traveled down to her display. Caroline would normally have thought of it as a lewd pose, but she felt… well powerful. She felt her own lips curling into a smile.
She laughed when he produced a Polaroid camera and began snapping pictures. She shifted in the chair, wanting him to have the best view of her wide open vulva. Each tiny movement reminded her how wet her pussy was. She could feel herself dripping.
The psychic laid the pictures of her out on the table, almost as he had with the tarot cards. Nothing was hidden. Her pussy, every pink inch of it, glistened in the flash from the camera. Her cropped and triangular shaped carpet of pubic hair seemed to draw one’s eye directly to her display. But it was her face that surprised her. She was smiling, confident, and looking directly into the camera.
She glanced back at him, wanting him to resume eating her pussy, or simply wanting him, but he was seated once again. He pointed at the original card, saying something about astrology.
Caroline discovered herself sitting, demurely in the chair, with her skirt at her knees. She fidgeted a bit, feeling like her skirt was bunched under her ass.