"What, fucking you? Sure." But the lopsided smile he was sporting told me he knew exactly what I meant.
I meant the blood magic. "I know you hate it."
Blythe sighed. Even his breath was like sage or some other sweet herb. I wondered if that was some kind of spell. "I mean, this is not what I was dreaming of. But just this once. If there's a price, I'm okay with it, in this case."
I smiled down at him. "You dreamed of me?"
"Don't get cocky." But his smile straightened out.
"Okay." I chuckled. "Look, normally, I'd take my time with you. But in the circumstances, would you mind if I went down on you right now?"
His mouth fell open. Apparently he was speechless?
We were planning to fuck on a mausoleum roof surrounded by reanimated skeletons and that surprised him?
He shook his head, though, so I tugged down his jeans and felt up his package through his silky, short boxers. He had a semi going on, but there was some work to be done. Understandable. I kissed my way down his chest and happy trail, stopping to tongue his navel, which made him gasp. "Close your eyes," I suggested. "Just focus on my mouth."
"Shouldn't be too hard." He tried to laugh but it came out like a sigh. His cock jumped under my hand.
Nice. Ah, fuck it, you know what? I was loving this. I already knew he wanted to fuck me, we were in mortal peril, and we had to screw to save the town. This was fantasy land for me.
Not so much if anyone in town got hurt, though, so I pulled down his shorts right quick. His dick was kind of lazy, but it was pretty, all pale in the magic-light and leaning to one side, the hooded head resting against his tight thigh. I leaned down and lifted it, making his stomach tighten, then buried my face between his legs. He had heavy balls, which was super-hot. As I sucked one into my mouth I got a huge rush of blood straight to my cock.
Blythe moaned and clutched at my hair. His cock swelled in my hand, so I gave it a gentle stroke or three as I licked and sucked his balls, first one then the other. The regular scraping and shuffling below wouldn't have let me forget what I was trying to do here, even if I wanted to—which I didn't. I moved on to his dick after a few seconds of intense attention to his sac. I pulled at his foreskin with my lips, and then licked around the inside of it. He was hard now—not enough, but it was gonna happen.
I love giving head. Long story, but I've done it in public before, and there was a lot of applause. That happened to be with a vagina, but whatever. I sucked his dickhead into my mouth, licked around and got a lot of spit going. Then I went all the way down until he hit the back of my throat and my nose was buried in his soft, dark hair. His hips bucked and a shingle went sliding. His fingers tightened even more in my hair. "Ah," he said with a sigh. "Oh my fuck. Griff."
I hummed in agreement and spent the next minute treating his cock like my favorite flavor of popsicle. I sealed my lips around it good most of the time, but let a lot of spit slip out to slick him up so I could follow my mouth with my hand. I enjoy a messy blow job—nothing as good in the whole world—so I figured he could appreciate it too.
Apparently I was right. When I popped him out of my mouth, his dick was so hard his head was poking out of the foreskin, a dark purple-ish pink, glistening with spit. It stood up straight, a nice seven inches, more elegant than fat, but all the better to get it in me and get to work.
"Good?" I asked.
He nodded. "We are gonna revisit that."
"You can come down my throat later." I grinned and rolled off him to shuck my pants. There was a huge wet spot at the end of my massive erection by that time, so I just threw my briefs off the edge of the roof. Something clattered—maybe a skeleton put them on, like fuck if I cared. "You can blow your load anywhere you want later. For now, I need it in me."
His normally clear, bright eyes were clouded and dazed. He crackled with energy—I could feel the moonlight pooling around him, though I had no idea how.
I reached into my pants to grab my wallet, then realized… it wasn't going to work, with a condom between us. "Oh. Fuck. Dude."
It took him a second, but he sighed. "Shit. Are you clean? Because if you're not, maybe the consequences aren't so worth it."
I nodded. "Haven't been with anyone since Cath. Got tested after her."
"I'm clean, too. Fuck, I feel so irresponsible anyhow."
I grabbed his dick and stroked it a few times. "We got enough element of danger for one fuck," I agreed. "We don't have to."
He bucked into my hand and let his head fall back. "I'll trust you."
I was hot as hell, but also suddenly touched. After everything, he believed me… fuck. I did not deserve him.
He said, "There's some elderflower petroleum jelly in my bag. Try that."
Oh, right, lube. I'd ask what the fuck he needed elder-jelly for later. I found a Vaseline jar and—yep, smelled flowery, like summer, out of place in the crisp, dead-leaf smell of October. Well, seeing as I hadn't had a chance to clean myself out, that might be for the best. Like, I'd taken a shit that morning and showered and washed my ass real good and everything, but—
Okay, fuck, running out of time. I handed him my pen knife, then straddled his lap again, stroking his cock with the jelly.
The scraping sounds broke into shattering. Those boney fuckers actually managed to get a piece of the stone off. Blythe looked to the side, but I cupped his chin in my clean hand and turned it toward me. "Just watch me, okay? Stay with me. Do your moon thing."
He huffed and nodded. My cock bobbed as I sat up on my knees, scraping them against the shingles. I aimed his dick and pushed the tip inside me, making me groan. That fiery, pinching pain that hurt so good… and the elderflower didn't seem to be making it any worse, so score there. I slid down his hard cock, impaling myself slow and steady, until my ass rested in the cradle of his hips and his balls pressed up into my crack.
Blythe looked up at me, his face full of silver light and wonder. "Take off your shirt," he said.
I did and threw it somewhere, so the night chill bit at my back. His magic kept my front warm. I rocked my hips. His cock seemed to swell inside me—no idea if that's even a thing, but the pull and stretch was fucking awesome. My dick jumped when he rubbed that sweet spot inside me, but I tried to stay away from that and focus on riding for his pleasure. I needed to keep mine under wraps.
Which, the way he was looking at me, was not gonna be easy. He grabbed my hips, tattoos on his arm moving as he flexed, and fucked up into me hard when I came down. My knees slid an inch or two, scraping, drawing blood. Good, good, that'd only help. Plus, god, I loved the pain. I loved the noise beneath us, too, wrong as it was. I loved that I was riding Blythe like beautiful fucking tattoo-skinned, pentagram-wearing, pierced up horse, and right out in the open. Up and down, rolling my hips in a circle, hands flat on his belly, cock bouncing off it when I came down and leaving a little wet spot beneath his navel.
The friction and heat, the magic swirling around us shut everything else out within moments. No idea how many moments, but Blythe's bucking into me got erratic and his chest heaved wildly. "Fuck," he said with a huff. "I'm gonna come. I am gonna come so fucking hard."
I took my knife and flicked it open, riding him hard and steady, watching his eyes. "Say when," I whispered. I was breathing ragged too, sweat forming in my collar bones and between my legs where they rubbed his hips. My thighs burned, my knees bled, everything was so hot and hard and alive.
He propped himself up on his elbows and bent his neck to the side for better access. He moaned and bucked, then finally, he said, "When."
I sliced at his neck, careful not to come near the jugular. Black blood beaded, then slid down his pale skin, reflecting silver light. Blythe grabbed at my ass hard and moaned louder, drowning out the scraping and shuffling below. I bent and licked at the tiny wound, then sucked. The taste of iron and magic flooded my mouth.
He shivered and shot what felt like load after load of cum into me, so it started dripping down my th
ighs while he was still spasming in there. I sucked at his neck at the same time, saying the incantation in my head.
The power was so bright and hot, for a second it was like midday in summer in my brain. At first it just shook me, a riot of chaos and energy that swept me under and left me spinning. But there was that silver thread of moonlight; that was what I followed back to my senses, what I pulled to start the coiling and controlling, wrapping it around and around me. All his sweet, pretty power, all mine, all of him inside me and around me.
When he collapsed, I sat up and realized I'd dug my nails into his hips. He bled in neat little half-moons in four or five different places. I slumped, still trying to organize thoughts and energy. My cock thumped against his belly, still hard and full and heavy. "Sorry," I mumbled. I think it was in English, but it might've been Latin. "I didn't mean to—to scratch."
"It's good." Still breathing hard, Blythe asked, "Did it—work?"
I nodded. "Fuck yeah, it worked." I lifted on shaking thighs and he came out of me with a gross sucking sound. My cock and balls ached, full of blood and sex and need.
His gaze lingered on them, then the cum dripping down my thighs. "Guess it's good I haven't jerked off in a while."
"Hope it's enough." I stood, cock bobbing awkwardly, legs like Jell-O. He pulled on his jeans and helped me with mine, then we grabbed our shit and scrambled to the edge of the roof. My dick rubbed against the denim and I groaned.
"Magical blue balls." He still sounded out of breath when he laughed.
"Hope it was at least good for you," I joked weakly. I had never been so fucking horny in my life—my dick could've knocked down that oak door, It was so hard. I could've ridden Blythe's cock all night, for one. And for another all the power was just making it worse, dying to explode out of me just like my nut. Even worse.
"Your ass is nicer than your mouth, which is saying something." Blythe hopped onto the tree branch, then held out a hand for me.
I accepted. Undead swarmed beneath us, all around the mausoleum, tearing at the walls and digging in the dirt, desperate to find a way to us. On the way down, Blythe said his cleansing incantation, and I sent a wave of power through it as it left him.
Every moving thing within a hundred yard radius dropped instantly. And this time, they didn't get back up.
When Blythe hit the ground and hoisted his pack, he said, "She must be on the move."
I adjusted my junk and said, "Then let's roll."
***
It wasn't hard to find her. Just follow the mini zombie horde… which wasn't so mini anymore. The streets were pretty much deserted, otherwise, apart from a few screaming drunk people exiting a bar. Blythe and I decimated the nearby dead and burst through the door the drunks had scrambled out of. Country music blared from an abandoned karaoke DJ station. The screen flashed lyrics about America.
"Shirtless in October? Those nips could cut glass. You're shameless, Griff." Cathy stood on the stage, wand at the ready, glaring. "What do you think you're going to do, exactly?"
Blythe leaned closer. "Get her outside."
Cathy laughed, gaze fixing on my package. "Wow, you are happy to see me."
Seriously, my dick hurt like hell. And I kind of loved it, but that was a whole other story. I adjusted it, which didn't help, and tried to glare right back. "Come and look at what you've done."
"I like it right here. You remember this place? My daddy used to work here until they fired him," she said.
I didn't mention that they fired him for being a meth head. Not Cathy's fault.
She went on, "I think it'll be my base of operations."
"Seriously? You got a whole town you're flushing out and you pick a dive bar to rule from?" Blythe facepalmed. "What the actual fuck?"
She stepped off her karaoke stage and waved her wand in Blythe's direction. I threw up a force barrier; whatever she'd been sending at him bounced off it and knocked her on her ass.
She screamed in rage, but standing up in stilettos was a problem. While she struggled to her feet, Blythe and I ran out the door into the zombie-infested street. When we reached the middle of the road, Blythe started an incantation.
I turned just as Cathy's magic slammed the bar door open. It bounced off the brick wall and shattered as she walked through. "I don't know what you did, but you will never be strong enough to beat this." She brandished the wand. "I got all your power, right here, plus mine. Mingled over time, watered with tears and blood all year."
My side, the one near Blythe, began to tingle. "Yeah, well, I got all his power. And you know what he's good at? Stomping out black magic."
She sneered.
"This is fucking nuts, Cath," I said. "Look around! It looks like we should have our own show on AMC! I'm sorry your family sucked but I ain't so sure you should fill that gap with the undead!"
She flicked her wand and I threw up another barrier. "Don't make me do this," I said. I wasn't sure what I was planning to do, but I'd unleash everything if I had to and damn the consequences. They couldn't be worse than this, like Blythe said.
This time, she moved out of the way before magical rebound hit her. It knocked what was left of the door behind her off its hinges. Someone screamed down the street; bones scraped against asphalt. At least these zombies didn't do that freaky groaning thing.
"Set up an amplifier," Blythe said. "Exponential. Prism."
At first I didn't get it, but then I realized that last thing wasn't a sentence, just a couple of inspirations. I held out both hands and pushed all the power in me, all our sex and blood and moonlight, into a ball between Blythe and Cath.
"This will explode," Blythe warned.
"Hit me."
Cathy started running.
Blythe said two words in that strange language, and something hit the ball of pure energy I'd created. I could've forced it to stay together, but instead I pushed it to explode harder and faster. Pure silver energy burst out of it, like the supernova cleansing Blythe had done before, but bigger and better and harder. It knocked me back into Blythe, so we landed in a pile on the opposite sidewalk.
For a moment, all I knew was my blood rushing in my head and the feeling of Blythe's heartbeat against mine. I moved, and my dick rubbed against Blythe's thigh. I groaned.
He rolled me off him and sat up. I followed.
The bar was blown to hell. A few of the surrounding buildings looked a little crumbly, but hopefully just the facades. Piles of bones and rotting meat and hair littered the street where undead had been. Wherever Cathy was, I had no idea; I couldn't feel her magic anywhere.
Blythe stumbled to his feet and ran to the blown out doorway. He bent down unsteadily, and when he stood, he had the wand in his hand.
***
We got back in my pickup and drove to the next state as fast as we could. Whatever was about to happen in town, we didn't want to be involved. Worst case, we ended up with another round of Salem witch trials. Best case, it was a local phenomenon covered by The National Enquirer and written off as batshit by everyone else in the world. Whatever happened, Cathy's wand was ours now, and we were out.
My dick settled down on the drive, thank everything good and pure. I still had a semi when we checked into the shady ass motel off the shady ass exit in the middle of nowhere. With the last hour of perfect moonlight, we took the wand out behind the motel's maintenance shed. Blythe made one of his protective circles, this time to keep something in instead of out, and set the wand inside. I used the crazy power still swirling around me to set the wand on fire. It went up fast, smoking like it was made of dry straw instead of young willow.
Blythe said an incantation and suddenly the stars were a little brighter in the sky. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head, but I guess it was just too much to shake off that easily. We walked back to the room, and without even taking off my shoes, I collapsed on the nearest bed. Aching, confused, horny, and just about fucking done.
He kicked off his shoes and yanked off his tank t
op, then crawled into the same bed. "You okay?"
"I hurt," I admitted with a chuckle. "But I think I'm okay. No more blood magic. I promise."
Blythe smiled. He had a total angel face, for such a punk-looking dude. It made me feel a little better that even if the rest of today had been a total dumpster fire, I had him smiling at me. And, you know, we'd halted the mini zombie apocalypse. Maybe not as quickly as we wanted but still. Total heroes.
Speaking of, "It was big of you to help me do that ritual, when you hate black magic so much. You saved the day."
"Don't get used to it." His smile went lopsided.
"You trusted me." I couldn't help getting a little serious. "I didn't deserve it."
"You said you'd pay me back," he reminded me.
"I swear I will."
"I'll hold you to it, no worries." Blythe slid his hand down my bare stomach, then rubbed my dick through my jeans.
My skin went tight, nipples perking, cock swelling again. I moaned, all pain and ecstasy.
"Still kind of hard," Blythe said, sounding amazed.
"Getting harder." I shifted my hips, rubbing my cock against his palm.
He settled on his knees and unzipped my jeans. Carefully, he guided my heavy, aching cock past the teeth of my zipper, then rolled my pants down. I lifted my ass to help, and my cock flopped ridiculously. It was purple and veiny and desperate.
Blythe pushed my legs apart and settled between my knees, then leaned down and kissed my dickhead. I arched on the bed, the whole pain/pleasure thing really doing a fucking number on me. I was so exhausted I could hardly move.
I didn't have to, though. "You did a good thing today," Blythe whispered. "You did the right thing. And you made a good choice."
"To ask you for help?"
"That too." He chuckled. "But I meant, to step away from the black magic." He kissed my dick again, then licked around the head. His puffy, pink lips were wet with spit and he felt like tingly moon-magic.
"So worth it," I said, then moaned again as he wrapped those amazing lips around me.
Witchy Boys: The Complete Collection Page 3
