The Witching Hour Ch. 02

Once again all praise is due unto the beautiful goddess of the written word, AMY_Monaco, for the amazing editing.

-Things start to get strange for Jack, and we find hidden dangers even in the best of friends.

*****

Jack opened his eyes as the bright morning sunlight came in his window. For a moment, as he stared up at the ceiling, he wasn't sure where he was. Oh, right, he thought, his new apartment. Man he hated moving all the damn time. He promised himself that someday soon he was going to settle down in one place and never move again. He was so sick of waking up to unfamiliar ceilings.

The air mattress beneath him squeaked a little when he stretched his sore muscles. Sleeping on the thing always gave him a backache. Man, he must have been wrecked last night, because he couldn't even remember setting it up. The first thing I'm going to do today is make sure that new bed is delivered on time, Jack thought, cant take too much of this anymore.

Well, he corrected himself as he rolled off the mattress and headed to the bathroom, not the first thing. He left the door open while he finished his morning business. Ah, the joys of being single.

Flushing, he moved to the sink, washed his hands and then took a handful of cold water and scrubbed his face with it to get the sleep out of his eyes. When he finished wiping the water off of his face he glanced up at the mirror and froze.

Across his bare chest, five smooth pink scars he had never seen before ran evenly spaced all the way from his stomach to his left shoulder. What the fuck!

Scars he was used to. Jack had a few well placed ones on various parts of his body. Mementos of times when he had let his judgment lapsed a little or hadn't been quite fast enough. One particularly good one even, on his hip where they had dug out a nice sized chunk of shrapnel. He bore them with pride, but most of the time he at the very least remembered what had caused them.

Suddenly the pieces of his memory started to fill in and he remembered something to do with the neighbors. It was still kind of fuzzy but he remembered the fight with the neighbor girl's boyfriend. The guy had pulled a knife. Well, he thought not a knife. Judging by the scars on his chest, it almost looked like the guy and scratched him.

That wasn't the weirdest part though. The weirdest part was that they didn't look like they had happened barely a day ago. No, instead of the raw, jagged red marks that he would expect, he saw only the smooth pink of new skin. That sort of healing would take weeks, if not more than a month, judging by their size.

More worried than he had been before, Jack wondered how the hell he had gotten back into his apartment. He didn't remember anything after the big guy had hit him. He must have been knocked cold. Someone had moved his unconscious body into his apartment and set up his bed for him. Not only that, but he was in nothing but his boxers, so someone had to have undressed him. But who would have done that? He was really starting to freak out now.

Surely not Mongo, hell he was surprised that the guy hadn't stomped his head in when he was down at the end. Maybe it had been the girlfriend? Jack guessed that it was possible. He chuckled to himself at the thought. Great Jack, the only time you can get a girl into your apartment and undressing you is when her boyfriend has just beaten the shit out of you.

If it had been the girlfriend, Jack wondered what could have happened to Mongo. Who cares, he thought viciously. The guy had been so cracked out he probably didn't know what the hell he was doing and ran off.

Jack shook his head violently and splashed more water over his face. This was way too weird and his brain could not deal with the implications right now. His body was sore all over from the beating and he suddenly noticed a small buzzing in the back of his head that couldn't bode well at all. He remembered hitting his head pretty hard.

The whole situation by itself was almost enough to make him want to reconsider owning a gun. Though he was thoroughly familiar with quite a few types of weapons, and actually fairly proficient with all of them, Jack had never really wanted to own one himself. The army tended to make you either become a gun nut or it made you totally ambivalent to them. He fell into the latter category.

As he felt himself begin to relax the buzzing in the back of his head decreased. You're worrying too much. Jack thought to himself. He would just have to be a hell of a lot more careful in the future, he decided. And start minding your own freaking business; he finished in his head with a laugh. This was starting to become a mantra for him.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jack looked back into the mirror. He was feeling a lot better. Maybe he had skated on this one. He was sure that if the girlfriend had called the cops or reported his little fight with Mongo to the apartments, he would have been woken up quite a bit sooner and, less then politely, asked to move on.

The scars on his chest didn't really look that bad now that he thought about it. He must have just been mistaken. The guy had probably just scratched him a little, and that's why they had healed already. Yeah, he knew that logic was a little thin, but he really wasn't in the mood to delve any deeper into this mystery. He had seen enough in his life to know that sometimes weird shit just happened. Who was he to question it? Right now he was just happy to be in one piece.

Looking back in the mirror he ran his hand over his face again and felt the day old growth of stubble on his chin. He had considered just letting it grow now that he was out, but six years of daily habits were hard to break. Maybe someday, he thought. Well anyway, before he did anything with his face the rest of his body needed some definite attention. He smelled like sweat and something else that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't at all that unpleasant, almost like flowers. Lilacs?

Shrugging his shoulders at his reflection in the mirror Jack stepped back out into the living room just long enough to grab his bag of shower stuff and jumped back into the little stall in the corner of the bathroom. One of the strange things he had noticed when he started moving in yesterday was that there was no tub in the bathroom, just a shower stall.

Not that it really fazed him, he wasn't really one for soaking, but he was sure that if Kelly was still here she would be freaking out. As he finished rinsing off the soap on his body and turned around, letting the almost too hot water run down over his sore muscles, he wondered idly if his was the only apartment like this, or if they were all different. God the heat of the water felt good. Maybe he should reconsider his position on tub soaking. To soon though, the shower began to loose its comfortable heat, so he shut it off. He didn't want to ruin the work it had done for his back.

Something in the back of his mind began to assert itself again as Jack went about his usual morning rituals. Now that the buzzing that had occupied his mind earlier had departed, he found himself growing concerned once again. Not in the same way as before; for some reason he felt an almost unnatural peace in regards to the new additions to his scar collection and his foggy memory. Actually, that was what was bothering him.

By nature, Jack didn't consider himself a care-free spirit. While he was not one of those people who would obsess about things to the point that it interfered with their life, he wasn't usually given to just rolling over and accepting any odd thing that came his way. At least, that is, without taking it and analyzing it from a dozen different directions to find at least one solution that would help him understand. It was the sort of mind-set that had made him hugely successful in the military intelligence field.

So why was it that he was so calmly accepting the strange things that were happening to him now?

Finishing his shave, Jack rinsed his face off and walked out into the bedroom. As he walked he felt the warm air from the apartment circulating around his bare skin. Whatever had happened yesterday, he had obviously forgotten to turn on the air conditioner and while the numbers on his little Timex digital watch told him it was only about 9:30, the temperature inside his tiny apartment was starting to climb with the heat of the mid-summer's day.

Jack went to the boxes still neatly stacked in the corner of the room and donned a fresh pair of underwear and set of his favorite lounging pants; he could do without a shirt for now. He considered flipping on the AC, but it was still pretty early and he did need to save some money. Instead he moved to the large sliding glass doors that led off of his bedroom to the small private balcony that each of the apartments had. Since he hadn't had the chance to check it out yesterday before everything had kicked off, Jack unlatched the bolt, slid the door back and stepped outside, leave the main glass door open and only shutting the screen mesh door behind him.

What greeted him was a tiny, but fairly clean balcony with a concrete floor and a wrought iron railing running along the front. Probably less for the aesthetic appeal, he was sure, than to protect the apartments tenant's from their own stupidity. Right in the center of the balcony were two chairs and a small outdoor table, all of which were fairly clean and in good repair; most likely left by the previous occupants when they moved out. You found that a lot when you lived in apartments, people left behind a good bit of stuff that they either didn't need or didn't want anymore. Landlords usually either through it out - at a hefty charge to the renters deposit, of course - or they just left it for the new tenants to find and decide what to do with.

Not exactly the greatest view, he thought lightly.

Out of the front of the balcony Jack found himself staring at the matte off-white siding of the wall to the next apartment building across the small courtyard that they had been built around. All of the balconies on this floor had been offset to give some semblance of privacy. Nice.

Walking out to the railing, Jack took a look around. The third floor was the top level of this building, so he had a fairly unobstructed view of the way everything was laid out if he looked to the left. The community itself was made up of about five different buildings like his, with only two apartments per floor, all arranged around a small, man-made lake in the center of the complex. To his right, his view was obstructed by a line of thick trees, through which he could barely see a tall stone wall.

This was one of the reasons he had been attracted back to Georgia after he had left the military. Even though this was a fairly cheap apartment and it was completely within the limits of a good size city, Jack still got the feeling of being in nature. Hell, even though he knew that just on the other side of that wall traffic blared and hustled by at its normal breakneck pace, from this spot he would never know it. In fact the only thing that broke the morning calm was the slightly too loud music coming from one of his neighbors.

Jack frowned, his thought process interrupted by the heavy metal music he had just noticed, and he scanned the buildings to see if he could pinpoint the disturbance. He couldn't quite tell where it was coming from. When he looked directly down though, he stopped, his jaw falling open and he couldn't help but stare.

Stretched out on a reclining pool chair near the front of the patio across from his on the next floor down was the girl he had met at the vending machine yesterday. What made him stop in shock and stare was what she was wearing, or rather, what she wasn't wearing. Lying on her back in the morning sunlight, Britt was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny sunglasses and an even tinier pair of thong underwear.

Jack almost ducked back into his patio, but then he realized from the angle her head was at that she wasn't looking at him. Instead her head sort of lulled to the side as if she was taking a nap. Her luxurious raven hair was spread out around her head. He could see now why he hadn't noticed any tan lines on her olive skin during the quick peeks he had received yesterday. He began to feel a voyeuristic excitement spreading through him, so he moved to the edge of the patio where he would be less likely to be spotted and continued to watch.

Her ample breast stood out away from her body, falling only slightly to the sides, seemingly in defiance of gravity. That probably meant they were fake, but that fact really didn't faze Jack. Personally he preferred getting his hands on the real thing as opposed to silicone, but when he was just looking, there wasn't much of a difference. They were, just barely, a little too big for his taste, probably running a large c-cup or even a small d. His cock, however, which was beginning to stir and tent the front of his pants outward, didn't find much of a problem with that.

The girl's legs were slightly spread and Jack's eyes traveled down her body to the point where they met. Even at this height, he could tell from the way sunlight revealed the coppery glow of her skin that the panties she was wearing were made of some sort of mesh material. From underneath the slightly see-through cloth Jack could make out a very small vertical line of black hair on top of her mound. Obviously, she must have kept the rest shaved bare.

The volume of the music that he had just realized was coming from her apartment briefly got louder as the sliding glass door that Jack couldn't see from his angle opened. Immediately it closed again and muted the sound. From the doorway a man walked into Jack's view carrying a tray with a single glass of what looked like some kind of iced tea.

Jack was shocked. The man was almost completely naked except for a very brief leather thong. His body had the perfect lean muscle tone and broad shoulders of a gymnast, without an ounce of fat on him. Or maybe a swimmer, Jack thought, because it was also obvious that either he had shaved his entire body, or he was naturally hairless. Like Britt, the man's skin held a deep coppery glow, and seemed to shine in the sunlight. The thing that shocked Jack the most though, was the thick black blind-fold that wrapped around the man's head, completely covering his eyes.

With almost feminine grace, Jack watched the man bend at the waist and unerringly place the try on the table next to her chair, then fluidly sink to his knees next to Britt. His head lowered as if in reverence, the man waited, not saying a word.

Jack watched in utter fascination as the man kept totally still, not moving a muscle, as the moments stretched away. Britt seemed not to notice that he was even there, though Jack had seen her shift her body a little when the door had opened, so it was obvious that she was aware of his presence.

Eventually though, Jack saw her turn her head in the man's direction and raise her arms up over her head, stretching languidly. Her fluid movements making him think of a cat, waking up from a mid-day nap. As she did, her breasts arched forward into the air, seeming to strain upwards towards him. Jack suddenly wished he were not so far away, the longing to take hold of the orbs and caress them was almost overwhelming.

As she relaxed, Jack watched her hand come back down and run lightly over the hairless mans chest, trailing slowly down his wash-board abs. The man didn't move, but Jack could make out his muscles tensing as her fingers wrapped around his massive bulge.

Getting a good grip, she pulled him up and towards her by the groin. He rose smoothly and moved closer to her side. Using her other hand Britt reached up and pulled the man's smooth shaven head down to her breast, his lips immediately wrapping around one of her pencil-eraser like nipples.

Releasing his head, Britt grabbed the man's right hand and drew it down between her legs, where he immediately began to softly massage her pussy lips through her flimsy panties. Jack could only imagine what her other hand was doing, with the man's body now blocking his view, but he could see his hips flexing rhythmically toward her.

After a few minutes of this, Britt lifted her hips off of the chair slightly. The man obviously took the hint, because he immediately hooked his fingers around the tiny bit of cloth and slid her panties down her toned legs.

Jack's cock strained against his pants painfully, begging for release, as he saw the dainty slit between her legs revealed, the sun glinting off of the juices that covered it. This was so hot; he reached down and began to stroke himself through the fabric.

With her panties removed, Britt stood and drew the man to his feet to join her. Reaching down to his waist, she found some kind of pull tab and gave it a yank. Immediately the thin strap that had held his thong together fell away. Jacks eyes bugged out of his head.

Holy shit!

Jack had never been in any way ashamed of the size of his own package. He knew he wasn't huge, but he was comfortably on the plus side of average, and had never heard any complaints. The monster that he watched spring into view, however, was nothing short of circus huge. It had to be at the very least ten full inches, if not more, and it had the girth to more than match it. Britt's tiny hands only made it seem more obscenely large as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around it.

Leading him, still blindfolded, by his massive cock Britt turned the man around and sat him down on the long chair with his back leaning up against the wrought iron railing. She left him suddenly and moved out of Jacks sight to the back of the balcony, returning a few seconds later with two long black strips of silky cloth dangling from her hands.

Jack watched, fascinated, as she stretched out first one muscled arm and then the other, tying each securely to the railing. Her deft movements told him that she was very familiar with this game.

Though it wasn't really his thing, Jack had on occasion played around a little with some light bondage and submission. Not, of course, with Kelly. She would have never gone in for that sort of thing. She had always, in Jacks opinion, been a little too restrained in bed; preferring nothing more than standard missionary position sex. Only rarely pushing it any farther, and never without Jack's insistence. A few previous girlfriends had been willing to experiment. Though, if there was going to be a little spank and tickle, Jack usually preferred to be on top, as it were.

Different strokes for different folks, Jack thought.

It was amazing though, to watch this tiny, pixy-like girl play dominant to the big, muscle bound man's submissive. Jack could definitely see the appeal. Having one of your senses taken away by the blindfold, and being totally unable to control the actions happening to you; it had to be hugely erotic. Some foggy memory in the back of his mind stirred at that, but as he tried to pin it down, it slipped away again.

Having finished with the straps, Britt threw her leg over the big man's lap and slowly began to run the tip of his cock up and down over the waiting opening to her pussy. The glistening wetness that came from her ready hole coated his straining head.

From where Jack was standing he had a perfect view down between them, and he wondered suddenly how in the world this petite little girl was going to fit that thing inside her. But, once she was satisfied that it was properly lubed, Britt bent her legs and Jack watched as the head of mans vast cock disappeared inside of her.