Black Tears and Emerald Eyes

Jessica did her best to appear normal as she walked towards the other side of the school to use the gym restrooms, and for the most part it was easy to accomplish: aside from fussed hair and the musky scent of her freshly-fucked snatch, no one could know a thing.

She cursed Ernest but, more self-consciously, cursed herself. Now freed from his influence, she replayed that exchange as she tried to figure what she should’ve done (kept her distance!) and should’ve said (un-wish all the horny bullshit!) before fleeing. She had nodded awkwardly to a pair of boys who she swore either caught her mumbling her regrets or could smell the sex on her.

This was the worst. What if they started some rumor about her now? If Maggie heard she looked or smelled like this moments after being in the bathroom with Ernest-! It was enough to make Jessica re-think her prohibition on wishes... and on just how far they could... should go. But what of what’s happened so far?

First, Ernest hadn't gotten past first period before nearly fucking a lesbian and nearly impregnating his genie, so his stupid sex and 'type' wishes needed to go. Second, couldn’t he just... wish away the memories of what just happened? Maybe not for Jessica, but at least for the people in the school who caught wind of it... Jessica figured she could text him this, at least, so she wouldn’t have to be in proximity again to-

She reached behind her... only her bag was still sitting hanging on the hook inside the bathroom stall.

Jessica slowly realized this... and then was about ready to cry. She just turned into a legal adult, damn it! Why should her adulthood be this hard?! With a defeated whine, she turned around to head back into the cesspool of pheromones.

Ernest’s hands shot forward to quickly pull his boxers up before whoever was in the stall could catch any sight of his wet dick. But in his haste, the band of the boxers caught his cock just under its overstimulated head, causing his hands to jerk as he snapped the boxers to their proper position.

The result was the bathroom stall door opening to Ernest stuck looking down at his cock being pinned upwards to rest against his belly. Dumbly, it stared back at him while slobbering a droplet of precum on its face. He looked up in a futile, natural attempt see how much time he had to fix it... but black eyes were already upon him.

Black eyes and nothing else, because a medical mask turned black with markers hid the rest of Kris Crow’s face.

Earlier...

Crow had to get out, or at least go unnoticed. It wouldn’t be the first time she was caught doing magic in the ladies’ restroom that involved creepy cut-outs from a yearbook—Crow had ambitions of “binding” certain classmates before—but with Ernest, who was somehow special in that electric moment they shared... well, she particularly didn’t want to spook this target of her spells.

But obviously, no one was going to notice her hiding in the stall once Maggie began to fellate the man.

The audacity of that woman! Posing as a lesbian for all these years just to steal this boy?! What made him special in any way the metalhead could appreciate?! Did she hear about their... connection in the stairwell?

Impossible; Crow hid her face so no one could’ve known her reaction in the staircase. This was the safety of the mask; no one could see her react to snide remarks or constant mockery of her appearance or hobbies; no one could see her wince or rage as she was berated as long she just kept her masked head up.

Silent and mysterious: that was Kris Crow. Not wounded and... lonely...

But Crow’s usual turmoil of thoughts was being eased away as the sounds and smells of this new exchange filled the restroom. Frost was stuffing her face into Ernest’s crotch like she’d find new piercings in there, and Crow was absolutely mesmerized with the confidence... the raw sexuality of this awkward exchange.

But Ernest wasn’t comfortable with it... and with a silent cheer, Crow watched Frost’s retreat—

... until the newly minted bisexual called out a spy. Crow’s heart had skipped a beat; she was caught!

Until she heard someone else stumble and fall.

That’s right, someone had come in before! It was why Crow had turned the candle off and dunked her cigarette: for fear of it being a teacher investigating either! She could not afford a second candle-based arson charge, after all. So quietly, Crow ignored Frost’d challenge, waited, and listened.

The door had opened... and then Crow wished it had been a teacher. Jessica Edwards? One of the most stereotypically hot students in the school? The captain of the biggest bullies Crow had to suffer? Their idle, snarky remarks had wounded her for four years in a row... and Crow despised each of them by name, having leveled futile curse after futile curse upon them.

But then... something incredible was said.

“You’ve got the ring!”

Ring?

“You can do whatever you want!... Oh, I’m a genie... I grant your wishes, not your fucking dreams, Ernest!”

For the casual observer, the language they used might have been interpreted as strange talk, metaphors, kinky subtext, or some conversation other than actual talk about genies or wishes...

“You wished for so much stupid shit just trying to... manipulate me. You think that's OK?"

... but Crow couldn’t be casual if casual bit her on the neck. Crow studied Jessica Edwards—like all her enemies—closely, and she did seem more vibrant, more sculpted, more... chesty than usual. Ernest had his newfound presence, and Crow couldn’t be sure she never incidentally touched him at any point before. More, Maggie suddenly playing for both teams just didn’t make sense: she’d have to have been lying or, as Crow’s asshole uncle might've put it, "confused" this entire time. Crow was still struck by the disbelief of what just happened... and an explanation like what these two were literally describing seemed to fit well... but it was madness.

But more importantly, Ernest’s wishes came into play: Crow didn’t know about the ring before all his wishes last night, and so she could still remember its mention... but now she knew about Jessica being a...

A real genie... and it was a cheerleader at a high school? Bullshit! Crow did what came naturally: she assumed Jessica Edwards was an ordinary, if lucky, high school student. Just as Ernest had wished.

But it left the question about the 'ring' that Ernest’s other wish could not quash.

The room smelled... amazing... and some animal instinct in Kris said it smelled like him. Just like what Ernest wished for. Jessica had said it herself...

Crow had already forgotten all this talk of Jessica being a genie or granting wishes... which meant something else, presumably this ring, was doing it. This was as near a construction of the truth confessed before Crow as she could remember under the invisible duress of Ernest’s sloppy wishes.

Crow’s hands slowly planted themselves over her mask as she inhaled. What if... what if they weren't talking in metaphors? What if this was real... what if Ernest was using real magick?

Crow's slow pulling of the pieces into a united image was frozen once Jessica leaned in and stole another kiss from Ernest.

Typical!

Wait, Jessica Edwards and Ernest Redmond? How? Even though she was clearly mad at him...!

Even to Crow, who had longed to find real proof of the occult in a mundane world, the idea of a wish-granting ring was just too far-fetched; she continued to go back and forth as she tried to reason away the literal idea of it. But then what was it? Was it a metaphor for ****? Prostitution? Wife husbandry? Crow didn't know, and none of it could explain the strange changes between yesterday and today...

...but if it involved dirt on Jessica Edwards, or even a chance at a real, occult mystery, Crow needed to know.

The stunt would be insane, even to Crow... but there was one good way to find the truth, and it definitely wasn't through Jessica. Quietly, she rummaged through her bag and prepared to modify the candle. It had worked to bring Ernest here, after all... so maybe it could work in one more aggressive way? A three-inch copper nail glittered from between her fingers while Ernest and Jessica struggled to not have sex just behind her.

A few minutes later...

A paranoia about the ring, and some invisible pull of fate around it, filed itself neatly into Ernest’s fears as he watched Crow step out into the bathroom common area... and behind her, he could swear he saw a candle flickering before the door swung closed. It still took him nearly three breaths to remember to cover his crotch with shaking hands.

“T-This isn’t what it looks... like- I know that’s cliche, but it really isn’t! I didn’t even want to coooooouum!”

Dark eyes glittered expectantly, but their owner said nothing as she lunged forward, barged through Ernest’s hands, and strangled his manhood like it owed her money.

Ernest’s head cocked back as he lost a bit of his sense and his eyes fluttered. Other senses took the wheel: despite the scent of Jessica permeating the bathroom, he could smell the stink of cigarettes that often clung to the goth girl during their shared literature class. Just by touch he could count her fingers as she flicked up her thumb to pinch his engorged head against the knuckle of her forefinger. She squeezed his shaft so hard that he wasn’t sure he’d get the jizz out if he came now... and god was he close-!

“W-What’s the ring?” Her voice staggered, her cheeks flushed, and Ernest looked down as he realized she must have already been hit by all of him by now... but her face remained stoic with the mask. She was in control... and she heard about the ring!

I am not in control!

The plan was perhaps simpler in her head: she had readied to step out just as he barely managed to not shoot off inside Jessica. A man in Ernest’s state, and still erect, was probably looking to come. She’d seen enough pornos to know that even if this was her first time touching a penis (not counting Billy in pre-K), all she had to do with grab his dick and he’d be more receptive to her questions. She did her best to keep up the bold act; the copper nail had been stabbed into Ernest’s photo, and Crow was confident that it would reaffirm her plan to get the truth out of the squirming beanstalk of a man. She just had to ignore... the urge... to take her clothes... off...?

But man was it getting hot in the bathroom... and watching Ernest shake from her grip filled Crow with an eagerness to see him come after all.

“Answer me,” she barely managed as she almost swooned, “What is... the r-ring?” What was this power of his that she felt-?!

“I-I can’t... it’s a secret, and... h-hey, if you keep doing that...” His voice was almost pitiful, though only because Crow couldn’t appreciate the agony of being near the edge of being **** to come, even in an awkward, threatening situation like this...

“Then what were you two talking about?”

Ernest visibly panicked as he perspired... and the mysterious little goth didn’t help by breathing her words low and fluttering her eyelids as she mauled his dick. A bit of precum got on her thumb and, without thinking much of it, Crow rubbed it with her thumb and glided the digit back and forth on Ernest’s head.

That was just about the last straw.

“You’re not wearing any jewelry... so you must be hiding it, or you mean a magic circle, or... so-o-omething...” A shake entered her voice as her body trembled. She wanted to say “something about Jessica,” but she was terrified of moaning halfway through even one more word. Her panties had not really dried up following their last encounter, and now the stain was starting to reach into the crotch of her jeans with how aroused she had become. Did she want him this badly?! If so...

As Crow’s mind clouded, her ministrations softened and paused... and Ernest couldn’t handle yet another near-miss.

“D-Don’t... st-” He barely stopped himself, but Crow got the picture.

“Just... show me... tell me what the... ring is,” she cooed, so close to resuming his handjob anyways. Her grip came completely off of Ernest... and at last the building heat in her crotch had seemed to calm as she finally broke contact. Ernest was dangerous... unnaturally so. The argument seemed less and less like a metaphor by the second.

In any case, she had made her wishes known... and Ernest really wanted to come.

He didn’t necessarily mean to will the ring into view. But he wanted to appease the near-albino minx that had cornered and toyed with him... and finally get to shoot off what was making him weak in the knees as more precum or early ejaculate surged on his cockhead.

So a green shimmer caught Crow’s eye.

Her near-black irises flicked to Ernest’s left hand and caught sight of what she couldn’t see before: a fat emerald sitting in a golden ring. It shimmered like a moonlit sea and beckoned to Crow... and it surely hadn’t been there a moment ago. His hand hadn’t moved. It just... magically appeared. Reality had altered and... and this wiped away every other belief Crow had about the ring. The ring had power...

Power. True power.

She grabbed his cock almost out of reflex... and her pleasure spiked anew.

“Fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-!” he barely managed.

Crow snapped out of her sudden revelation. Ernest would be be spraying sperm all over her clothes at this angle, and she wasn’t mean enough to even think about making him come on his own clothes instead. She tried to dive back... but her hand wouldn’t let go! She continued to clutch it as something wonderful began to blossom inside her, but she needed to keep the sperm off of her or out of view. In her desperation, her mind raced to porn... but they all ended messily: creampies or facials or splatters on clothes or-

... or swallowing.

It was too intimate an act... too hot in her mind... too perfect to actually completely bind him to her.... for her not to do it. She lowered her head to his and hastily lifted her face mask just enough to reveal her moaning, drooling mouth to his pulsing rod-

His first volley splattered her mouth, cheeks, and tongue as she tried to get the spraying hose past her lips. “Oh God-!” he moaned as he clutched the bathroom counter behind him.

The taste was odd and bitter, but feeling his flared head on her tongue was a new delight as Crow sealed her lips and let her fellow senior coat her teeth and the back of her throat with baby mayo. She gagged and nearly spat him right back out, but she knew she’d have even a bigger mess to clean up if she did. Only now did she realize she could taste Jessica on him, but she was too enraptured by the rising orgasm inside her to care. Her hands caressed and pumped his shaft and crotch, her tongue pinned his dick to the roof of her mouth, and all too much of her was touching him to not suddenly feel the burning surge of ecstasy hit her.

She finally knew what he was... and even in the throes of her body shaking against his own trembling legs, she cried happily as she realized she had finally found it after so many years of searching: magic, real magic in this sick, sad world.

“Hey, are you still-?” Jessica poked her head in, half-expecting no one to be here anymore...

Ernest glanced, stupefied, at the door. Crow, still coming too powerfully to care, had her face mask bunched up by the cock half-buried in her cum-covered chin, cheeks, and mouth while her mascara ran in sloppy tears.