Can I get 2 number 9's and a Sorcerer Supreme

Jesus, why was furniture so expensive? Maybe because I was getting fancy rich people furniture (Had to keep appearances of course), all dark oaks, deep purple carpets and a truly wondrous bed. How they managed to get it into the master bedroom was a feat of true magic.

Not that it was super easy to appreciate as I struggled to lug a box full of books from the floor outside to the interior when I could use my magic with impunity.

Heaving - oh god did I break something, that didn't feel good - the box moved about an inch or two across the ground. I leaned over it for a good pant, I was halfway down the path from the street gate to my door, I was very firmly not thinking about how I was going to get it actually up the steps, and too lazy to do the sensible thing and open the box to carry a few books at a time.

"Are you ok there? do you need a hand."

I let out a startled yelp and spun to see an absolutely massive man, holding onto a leash, it came taught and soon his dog walked back to see why they'd stopped.

"Oh apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.."

"Blake, uhm no its fine, er." I oogle...looked. I looked at his muscles, he was well built, not bodybuilder built, but he definitely looked after himself. My eyes strayed further down, realizing that his exercise pants did not hide much. I jerked my head up to answer, blushing. "Yes, I mean if you want to."

"Scott, oh its no biggie, good exercise." He turned to his dog. "Sit. Good girl," he pet her head, she was a fluffy border collie, though far more muscled than any I had seen. He unhooked the leash briefly to loop it through the handle around the banister leading up the steps, clicking it back in place of the dutiful dog.

Satisfied he walked up to the box, bending down strangely and testing its weight. With a grunt he pushed off the ground, holding it with only some strain.

"Damn this thing is heavy, you definitely should not have been carrying this thing around."

"Well, I didn't manage any carrying, more dragging really."

"Either way its a good thing I came along, well, lead the way."

I popped up the stairs and opened the door from him, struggling only slightly to climb the steps.

"Right, where is this going."

"Um the library."

"Oh, I didn't think this house had a library, I used to help the old man move things around."

"No its new, I'm converting the old lounge into a library-lounge thing."

He nodded, ascending the steps slowly, beads of sweat on his brow and his face frowning in concentration. Soon. we'd climbed the stairs and navigated to the old lounge, still warm from yesterdays fire. Currently there were some very sparsely populated bookshelves lining the room. Eventually I planned to fill them all but right now they only held a meagre offering of old novels and college textbooks.

With a muted thump he put the box on the floor. putting his hands on his knees for only a few moments before stretching up with false bravado.

"Thank you so much. I probably was going to have to give up and move books manually so you saved me some time."

"Heh, anything for a cute lady." He winked, honest to goodness winked. I would be lying if I said it didn't work though.

"Haha, well, uh I'm...not a actually a girl."

He blinked blankly for a few moments before laughing nervously and rubbing his head.

"Ah sorry about that, I thought you looked, oh never mind."

I smiled a bit, realizing that he was absolutely coming onto me earlier.

"Its ok, I wouldn't wear booty shorts if I was bothered by the comparison."

He laughed again but it sounded very strained.

"Yes very - Nevermind, well, it was nice meeting you. But I should get going, Rigel will start getting bored soon."

"Thanks again, you were very kind."

"Right, well, I live down a ways, 51st smith street, I just like running in the old town. Ill see you around."

"You too, have fun."

He just laughed and left.

Damn, what a cutie, also he was 100% staring at my ass up the stairs. I was wondering why he walked so slow.

Not like I minded any.

Hmm, I'm putting seducing the cute boy as a definite on the bucket list, though for now I need to get these books on the shelf.

I grabbed my wand from the neighboring study (and future magic study room) and steadied myself for a spell. I'd read up on the Dewey decimal system in preparation for this, eventually I was going to look into setting more permanent spells to sort thing automatically, for now though I had to manually cast the spell on each book, drawing from the knowledge of each book from libraries that held copies to send it to the corresponding section of the library.

Most of them were science texts, figuring they would come very in handy for my magic, so mostly they all populated the science section more fully, with a few scattered books in various other spots, all lonely for now.

This left be with an empty box and very erect penis.

Mmmh, I need to take care of that.

I walked up the stairs to the master bedroom, passing the future enchanting workshop (for after I invent enchanting) as I went.

I sunk into my new bed, I'd eschewed the traditional four-poster bed for a more modernish design, the same dark woods that were in the drawing room and with a heavenly soft mattress.

I pushed the dark denim booty shorts up my knees, raised in a way that squished my penis to my stomach in a way I just found kind of cute.

I started masturbating, just using the tips of my fingers and moving them up and down slowly. My other hand went under my shirt and tweaked a nipple, I had vague memories from the spell that gave me this house. Enough so that I could just focus on an individual event I was part of, contextualizing the jumbled memory. It was far more erotic than porn.

I could feel echos of the pleasure I'd experienced then, enough to become frustrated at the relative non-sensitivity of my own nipples. Something I very much intended to rectify once I got onto creating an alchemy lab in the basement, my healing balm would definitely not be the last of thing I would be creating for myself.

Even so it was still pleasurable, for that moment I was not Blake, budding sorcerer, I was Olive, that girl I'd almost gotten stuck inside. The weird overlay of pleasure on my penis from masturbating and echo of pleasure from her vagina combined wonderfully.

Vaginas felt nice.

My legs tensed, pushing my bits further up, the alight pain from my balls being squished registering as pleasure in the moment, my ass clenching in desire. I pulled furiously, still using just my fingertips but now with an insistent speed. I reached the point just before orgasm, aware of the electric feel of excess pleasure turning to magic.

I felt my tanks filling and tried to hold off on the orgasm, pushing the boundary slightly. My hairs stood on end in the few seconds I held out before orgasm, extra magic bouncing around noticeably, it was painful to hold onto, pooling onto my nipples and penis. A sharp pain, but a pleasurable one.

I only mutely registered the warm pool of cum on my stomach, still focused on holding onto the extra magic.

Haltingly I drew my cum covered finder to my face, giving an experimental sniff, the heavy scent of my sperm intoxicating. I gave it an even more experimental lick, no it still definitely did not taste as good as it smelt to me. Bugger.

The distraction was enough for the magic I held onto to escape, the pain receding as it went. I lasted a bit longer than yesterday I was sure of it, I was thinking of my storage capacity to be somewhat akin to a muscle. The hopes that much like my runes I could shape how my magic worked. Sticking with the theme of sex based magic I thought to store it in erogenous zones eventually which brought along this small measure of success.

Because as stupidly powerful as the magic I wrought was before I swore off doing it again, almost certain that next time I would not be able to return to my own body.

I slunk down one flight into my library again, this time going through to the study, very thankful that the heavy desk came with the house, I was half-convinced it was actually built inside the room.

Situated on it currently was just my laptop. My desktop was downstairs in what I considered the 'public' part of of the house, set up as a legit study/gaming room adjacent to the drawing room.

In lieu of actually typing (far too boring and time consuming) I used my magic to directly translate my thoughts to digital form, populating what would be one of the first books I was going to add to the room. I was not dedicated enough to the aesthetic to physically handwrite them - even if everybody knew the best magic came from dusty old handwritten tomes - they'd get dusty on their own eventually.

As would I.

I repressed the shiver of disgust, 22 was not old, not yet. Though I would hit twink **** sooner than I really wanted to.

Actually. Fuck I have magic now! I don't need to succumb to petty biology, or give in and start juicing (taking estrogen would definitely be an overreaction to aging.)

God, magic was just the best, fuck biology, I'm going to be pretty forever.