Homoerotic Hurdles and Risky Magic

"Experimenting... sounds nice. How should we get-" C'mon Ernest, you got to get used to this. He patted his pocket where his Corvette's fob could be felt, "Let's take my car."

"Alright..." Crow's head was still swimming from a mix of pheromones and revelations. But the idea of having a boy in her room excited her enough to not worry about it. Of course she was like this: a real practitioner of magic was going to her room! The usual shyness, of letting others see into her private workshop, made no sense with him. Besides... she couldn't deny that she liked the feeling he bombarded her with, and being close to a change of underwear and her own bathroom was a welcome comfort right now. Eagerly, the two teens slipped from the girl's restroom and, at Crow's insistence, took a long route along the outside of the school to avoid the security guards and cameras in the halls.

The two walked in slight crouches as their heads nearly crested into the classroom windows of the first floor. The outside of the school was decorated long before considerations for stopping students were put into effect: generous, spherical bushes lined the outside to pretty it and provide fine cover for fornication or truancy. The windows were high on the theory that it would discourage leaping from them, which had poor synergy with the fall-breaking bushes or the fact that most students skipped by leaving through the unmonitored doorways. That it also meant that teachers or students couldn't spot fleeing 'inmates' until they were already at the fence made it doubly useless a design choice. The fence, meanwhile, would barely stop a motivated chihuahua, much less a motivated high schooler: it wasn't an option for students with cars, but the poor chain-link holdover from the twentieth century proved a challenge only to the most crippled children. The street beyond the fence was quiet; the rush hour traffic had died and the road by Eastlake wasn't particularly useful to anyone but students and parents. Beyond that, a quiet neighborhood of condos, winding roads, and sprawling paths made for the perfect suburban jungle to vanish while pursued.

But all Ernest and Kris had to do was get to his car and drive faster than anyone could scramble in a security guard golf cart. They were nearly across the remaining length of the school, and inside the parking lot, when Ernest spotted their biggest hurdle: the security guard sitting by the parking lot gate.

"Crap, that's right! I forgot they post somebody at the parking lot while we're in class," Ernest whispered while pointing as they walked. It had never been his problem before last night, after all.

Alarmed, Crow crouched by a bush and pulled Ernest in behind it. Ernest narrowed his eyes. Even from here, he could recognize the guard's telltale white goatee and overall paunchy build: Chuck the Security Guard, a malodorous drone of the high school administration and prime suspect for foul play with the female students who needed him to cut them a break. A large beach umbrella, a folding chair, a walkie-talkie, and a cheap smartphone were his only visible tools, but that meant he had a clear, 360-degree view of the parking lot and the street from where he was posted.

Crow peeked through the leaves at this unexpected hurdle. Having never had a car herself, this was never a problem before; she grumbled at her shortsightedness until she remembered her company, "You could wish him to the restroom or something, right?"

"That's... not ideal, right now." How would he justify that to Jessica? That'd require explaining this whole 'experiment' they were planning and... and he didn't think she'd understand.

Crow slowly nodded. Magic was complicated; there was clearly more to his than Ernest could explain, at least for now.

"Perhaps this is... the first trial. This is your first experiment," Crow slowly replied.

"W-What?"

"Your power to make him... you know."

"You want me to make him... y'know?"

"He'd have to go get cleaned up, right?" She wrinkled her nose under the mask, "Unless he'd just... sit in it..."

The hefty guard yawned as he continued to read his phone.

"B-But I'd be making a dude... you know..."

Crow glanced back at Ernest in disbelief.

He scratched his head, "Yeah, I guess that's... not a hang-up I can really justify right now, but... yeesh, I mean it's... Chuck..."

"This is definitely your first experiment."

"I didn't think my first experiment would be homoerotic."

"We never do, but it's easier than it first seems."

A bird chirped across the silence of their pause.

"Wait, what does that mea-"

"F-Focus," Crow nearly spat.

Ernest sighed and... with a **** thought... willed an orgasm into the guard.

A spasm, a heaving breath... and a simple, nonchalant fanning of his hand at his red face as he returned to reading his phone. Chuck had been warmed by the experience, but seemed otherwise totally unperturbed.

"He's... oh God, he's... he's not even moving...!" Crow said in utter disgust, "Did you make him... you know... 'release'?"

"Yes," Ernest sighed in exasperation.

"Eew."

"You just told me-!"

"But it's Chuck."

"You think I don't know that-?!"

"A-Alright, right... W-Well, maybe he just needs... another one...?"

Again the guard spasmed and dropped his phone... and finally, with a fairly nonplussed realization, tapped his moistening groin. Grumbling, he picked up his phone and lurched out of his chair to take the long walk back to the school bathroom. He still seemed like this was the most natural occurrence possible, even if now it required he fix his wet wardrobe malfunction.

"You did it!" Crow nearly cheered.

"I... sure did." The sooner Ernest forgot the sight of Chuck the Security Guard repeatedly ejaculating his pants in public, the better.

The Crowley home was a humble half of a duplex in a quaint, if a bit worn down, neighborhood of virtually identical structures. Some neighborhood association kept them all in the same shade of vomit green with stained black roofs and white picket fences that had yellowed from lack of maintenance funding. The road in front of the Crowley half of the duplex was cracked; because the driveway could only hold one car, but because Crow was sure they'd be gone before her mom got home, she told him to pull right in and not to worry. The Corvette's roar died down as if its worries had been eased about this place; that was brave of it, because Ernest was immediately unsettled by the home's stained walls, cracked path of stones, and Halloween decorations that were still hanging on this side of New Years Day.

But a beaming, excited glance from Crow, before she motioned him to follow, was enough to keep Ernest going. Truth be told, the two had both been filled with thoughts of what they'd do once they got here; the air conditioning of the car did nothing to filter out the scents they put out for potential mates, and either was unconsciously ready to pull over and rut on the floor if given a socially acceptable chance. With the blood flowing to that half of them, Ernest followed quick behind his hostess. They were soon in a living room that was so sparse and clean that, coming from his family's lifestyle, Ernest was left afraid of touching or disturbing what few picture frames or bits of furniture were placed.

"I-I'm over... here..." Kris turned a corner into a small hallway off to the side of the area joining the living room and kitchen; this tiny hall split into two paths, one to each bedroom, and at its center waited a busy-looking bathroom.

Black stars, Keep Out! signs, a few bits of band stickers half-torn in some fit of teenage hormones, and all manner of carved symbols believed to be Kabbalistic, Hermetic, or Druidic marked the portal into the unknown: the bedroom of Kristina Crowley. Ernest was no stranger to a girl's room -- he had sisters, and he did still have that one girlfriend experience -- but he felt that early trepidation now as he stepped through the threshold, his hand now holding hers, as he was led into a chamber of darkness that she barely lit with the flick of her light switch. He took in the big details: cheap, glowing astrology charts on the ceiling occasionally interrupted by a spray-painted black fan with its light bulbs missing, three different blacklight lamps, a queen-sized bed that seemed to absorb light, and faux black marble paneling on the armoire, dresser, and vanity that composed her only other furniture. He took in the small details: her clothes strewn everywhere, a brown rug, a literal trash can of what could only have been hand-sewn voodoo dolls presently filled the needles, and a deployed make-up station that had every shade of black and white Ernest didn't know existed.

Crow, who had not been thinking so much about what her room was (aside from her magical sanctum) as much as she was about getting him there, was suddenly keenly self-conscious about how the place must have looked to him. "S-Sorry for the mess-"

Ernest closed her door, making her jump slightly. "O-Oh, sorry... I just thought you'd... want some privacy." He scanned the room again. Where was the window in here? He then noticed the black-out curtains hanging behind the armoire; she had totally blocked the sunlight from this room, then. Candles were suddenly popping up everywhere in a way that was like finding Hidden Mickeys in a Kingdom Hearts game. More than a few of them had cut-out pictures trapped in the drippings of their waxes.

"That's... fine..." She stood awkwardly, suddenly unsure of how to proceed... and Ernest, only mildly alarmed by all the signs of witchcraft, could barely control himself anymore. He walked up to her and reached for the mask, to uncover that pretty face he had seen-

"T-The mask stays on," she stammered.

He blinked at her... and smiled as he caught her scent from this close. She wanted this as badly as he did, didn't she? But maybe she didn't, warned that voice at the back of his mind.

"Then take off everything you want before we... experiment."

What was she doing? What felt right, she decided... and his hunger, the manly aura he seemed to cast upon her as he had drawn so close, enticed her. She loved how badly he had wanted her... enough so that she almost forgot why they were there. Quietly, she slipped past Ernest and around her bed to a closet that had been just out of view. Her rummage was brief; she produced two thick, black towels and proceeded to lay them out on the bed. Ernest didn't ask why; he could figure that much out, given what they both knew. With some urgent tugs and grunts, her jeans had come off, revealing plain black panties that then fell away in turn. She didn't remove her t-shirt -- why would she? -- and she crawled onto the bed, her twat already smelling strongly enough to fill Ernest's nose... and ruin what hesitation he might've had. His eyes hungrily took in her body and noted how they didn't glow in the blacklight like the pale make-up on her face; on these parts of her that no one was meant to see, her freckles and pink-to-pale skin tone were just as dark as anything else in the room that wasn't glowing. Her red bush was outgrowing a trim; she squirmed as he bore a hole through her twat with his eyes.

"Alright," she started, "we should beegoooOOOOh!" Crow's back arched as a rush of overwhelming pleasure shot up her spine and dashed her brain against reason, leaving her gasping and trembling as she came down again, "Oh... Oh...! Yes, that's-aah!"

Ernest had no reason to wish this to stop... and the stink of her cumming was so powerful that he was drawn closer to the bed. He was practically by her side as the third orgasm ravaged her, but he continued not to touch her yet; he still had that much self-control. She on the other hand was very much losing it: her hands traveled her body and eventually lifted her shirt until she was so frustrated at arriving at her sports bra. With a frustrated flick, she slid it up and revealed her C-cup breasts to the slowly heating air. They surged and bounced as she gasped until she began playing with them in her usual, post-orgasm ritual of masturbation... only it wasn't stopping here, and her body convulsed as another had her pussy squirting onto the towel beyond the small, darkening circle formed from the regular dripping. Her nipples harden before she eagerly tugged on them.

It was the tickle of his nose against her bush that tipped her rolling eyes off enough to look down and see Ernest as he loomed over her crotch within kissing range of her trembling pussy. His power was... incredible! The small feat was suddenly her entire world as she drowned in the indulgence of his whims, but she still feared the unwelcomed touch... even if it was oh-so-welcome. "W-What are you doing?"

"You smell amazing."

Her cheeks were already burning, but she had no idea what to do with the embarrassment of that statement.

"Can I," Ernest began, his words being sighed in heavy breaths, "can I touch you?"

"That's not... part of the experim... ment..."

His left hand planted itself on the other side of her. He was all but begging over the dripping cunt beneath his nose, "But... can I?"

Crow nodded as her tongue pressed against the inside of her mask -- God, she could still taste him on it! -- and her body convulsed anew as Ernest timed her next orgasm with his burying his mouth and nose into her crotch.

He took a big whiff of her... and even at so many times less sensitive to pheromones as a man was, his mission had become undeniable at that point. Ernest climbed onto the bed completely as he tried, and clumsily succeeded, to take his pants and boxers down while also mounting the trembling goth. Her thighs parted to welcome him unconsciously; she struggled to breath as her muscles exhausted her. He drew closer to her face and breathed with her; he wanted to see that face more than anything, now even more than her otherwise naked body. His newly-erect cock pressed against the space between her labia and left thigh; a minor adjustment, and he would rob her of what he didn't know she still had.

She wanted nothing more in the world right now... but she still couldn't bear his request.

"I want to see you," he whispered into the mask.

"No, I'm... I feel so..." She couldn't even say it... nor could she put up much of a struggle as he reached behind her left ear, "No, my make-up is... my mouth is..."

She knew she looked a mess... and he couldn't see it. It was horrible. No one could be allowed to know-

He pushed the mask away, and sure enough, she had ruined the make-up somewhere between cleaning the jizz off and wearing the mask until now. Her pinker, natural hue was peeking out where the blacklight didn't make her skin glow, the spots of freckles were clearly visible, and her whorish, tongue-lolling, drooling mouth beckoned him to bend down and suck her tongue until they were united in a kiss... and then he saw it: a tiny, tiny gap between her two front teeth.

His mind didn't even register it.

She was so utterly humiliated... and spasming with pleasure as he willed more of this unattainable bliss into her.

He eventually followed his instinct and reached down to suck on her tongue. His cock poked again... and it found her virgin entrance. Swiftly, he drove into her until their hips met... and neither could even register her hymen being ripped apart. At this point, he was unconsciously willing more and more pleasure into her, more joy from their union, more animal reasons to mate with him as he began to pump into her. He wanted her to feel as amazing as he felt inside her; the sex-addled brain exaggerated, and so Crow was simply driven into orgasm after orgasm. The bed creaked as he drove into her sopping pussy; slight bits of blood mixed with, and eventually vanished into, the waves of feminine lubrication that pooled underneath their union. She no longer protested or bothered to open her eyes as she mindlessly enjoyed his tongue, his cock, and his entire, sweating body pressed against her.

Ernest ripped the mask away, balled it up, and threw it to who-the-fuck-cares. He only disconnected their mouths long enough to get her bra and shirt completely off her body. She clawed his shirt off with enough **** to draw blood on an ordinary man. The two were now flesh-to-flesh as he continued to pump into her while kneeling upright at her altar. She covered her face with both hands as she continued to gasp and cry with pleasure, but only as long as Ernest permitted it. With a growl, he hooked her legs onto his shoulders, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her into his thrusts, battering her womb with every **** thrust as he felt her sopping sex try to milk what remained of his seed that hadn't already gone down this woman's throat.

"I want to... see you!"

"I want... you!" was all she could manage as she tried to turn away and hide her shame.

Even though he had just come earlier that day, he was already reaching his teenage limit. They hadn't used condoms; Crow wasn't on birth control. Neither thought about it as his thrusts picked up and he shoved a fifteenth orgasm into the twitching goth-ginger who squirmed against him as he brutalized her previously virgin snatch.

"Fuck-!" he grunted the only intelligible word between them as he came... and felt the soft, mostly impotent pulses of some remnants of an orgasm. It still felt incredible to him, however, and no matter how barbaric his lovemaking then, it was incredible to her... so incredible she hadn't even realized he came.

Ernest felt himself softening. It seemed like the fun was to end and on a pitiful note of jism spilled inside his new acquaintance.

But it didn't have to be. The brief thought was encouraged by the scent of his mate; lost in lust and still partially inside her, he breathed, "I wish I could get hard at will and always came a full and perfect load." His cock immediately hardened again inside his little goth princess... and she began to panic and moan again as some part of her brain started to realize what she was at risk for. Ernest began to ram back into her, reveling in the sensation of an cock immune to damage continuing to stimulate him. God he felt so ready to come already... and then Ernest, now with a system that would always be filled to capacity with sperm and fluids, fell to the natural forces that sought a relief that would never come.

He began to come inside her again... and what was a pittance before now was a wave splashing millions of 'perfect' sperm into a **** womb. Ernest groaned and leaned forward as his focus finally came back to his pleasure... and Crow, too lost in her own, simply joined his chorus as she felt his copious seed drooling from the seam between her labia and his rod.

Unfortunately, this was just the first five or so minutes the two had together of some hours before either had to worry about being missed... and so Ernest's thrusts, and Crow's bombardment of rapture, began anew.