Read this at your own risk ~ Rev. Wesley Halifax

It almost took my breath away to have my request met with such immediate and incurious compliance. "Of course" he said, as if it was the most unremarkable thing in the world for an unmarried woman to request that an unmarried man remove an article of clothing. And so great is my desire for Oliver that the simple event of his removing his cravat - his neck still covered by his high collar - was enough to heighten my lustful impulses. And because I enjoyed it so, and because I wanted to test my powers further, I said "Oliver, darling, could you please put your cravat back on and then remove it again, but very slowly?"

"Of course, Betsy" he said and did as I had bidden him. I congratulated myself on a spell very well cast, but felt somewhat disquieted. Normally Oliver would, at the very least, inquire why I should ask him to perform such a pointless repetition. It was a strange sensation indeed to be obeyed so readily by Oliver, of all vexatious people.

"Would you kindly unbutton your shirt, Oliver my pet?"

"But of course."

"Is that all you can say: 'of course?'" I asked, a tiny bit irritably.

"Of course not" he said, and smiled. "What else would you like me to say?"

That dear smile comforted me - this was the Oliver I knew, not a mindless automaton. He unbuttoned his shirt and undid the top button of his waistcoat in order to unbutton the final button of his shirt. Literalness of interpretation in response to commands, I discovered, is one of the features of this particular spell: I told him to unbutton his shirt, and so he must unbutton it entirely, as I did not explicitly declare otherwise. And well I did not for now an exquisite "V" of exposed chest was visible to the bottom of his breastbone.

I had an irrepressible desire to put my hand on his chest, and I stepped right up to him, almost nose to nose. He did not withdraw, he simply smiled at me. I returned the smile and slipped my hand into his shirt and pressed my palm directly against the center of his chest. I closed my eyes in pleasure and just stood there a moment, enjoying the touch of the warm skin and the moderately distributed silky hair on his chest - just enough to indicate virility without being excessively hirsute. I noted his scent, sweet as always with a deep note of masculinity underneath. I might have stayed like so for hours, but for the anticipation of many other delights. I shivered a little with excitement. I did not mean to kiss him right away, but standing so close to him, his dear beloved face before me, I seemed to fall into him, to blend into him, to plunge in, ravenously, as if dying of starvation and suddenly presented with a dipper of most exquisite honey.

(To be continued...)