by Dante King
In less than a minute, Janet had let out a little groan, and I knew she was feeling those pleasant tingles coming alive in the wake of my hands. Wanting to appear less keen than I was to move southward, I made a bit of a show of rubbing up her neck, before moving carefully down her spine, my fingers working in circles. When I reached the top of her ass, I massaged her hips and then, with the very tips of my fingers, ran my hands around to her stomach.
“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Janet whispered, but she made no move to stop me. In fact, she took a little step backward and pressed her ass against my cock, which was now standing fully at attention.
“I didn’t see you bring your staff in here with you,” she said in a soft voice as she pressed closer into me.
“Apparently it can appear with little more than a thought, but I figure you’re making a euphemism right now.”
She turned her head so I could just see her smile from over her shoulder. “You’re such an idiot,” she said playfully.
“You got me there,” I muttered, kissing her behind the ear.
Janet groaned and leaned her head back against my chest. My oily hands—the naughty little devils—slid upward and took one of her breasts in each hand. Gently, I pinched her nipples and felt them harden under my fingers.
With a decisiveness that I found extremely hot, Janet kicked off her boots and shrugged out of her breeches. Then she turned back to me, absolutely naked, grabbed the oil from the counter, and poured a generous measure over my chest. With a deft flick of her hand, she ripped the towel off me. The Warrior’s Salve ran down the ridges of my muscled stomach and into my groin.
“That feels amazing,” I let out as Janet grasped me by the cock and began jacking me off. The combined sensation of the oil, along with Janet’s expert ministrations, was enough to make me almost lose control totally. While she did this, she pressed herself up against me, her tits rubbing against my oily chest and becoming oily in turn.
“You weren’t kidding about this stuff,” Janet gasped. “It’s fucking incredible! How has this never been bottled and sold as lube before?”
We fumbled around, both of us stark naked, kissing and tonguing each other’s naked flesh. Janet bumped into the counter and sent the rest of the potion crashing to the floor in a shower of glass.
“Quick,” she panted, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me to the door, “get out here and fuck me.”
Extremely briefly, I wondered about the advisability of getting it on in the middle of a study room where presumably any sorority sister might come in. But then I discarded the worry—there was far more pressing business at hand.
Janet and I stumbled into the lounge area, where the cauldron still sat on the now put out fire. She pushed me down onto the white leather sofa and threw herself on top of me. The feeling of her oily, slippery body against my own tingling skin drove me wild with lust. I pulled her face down and kissed her deeply while she grabbed my cock and guided it into her wet and eager box.
With a growl of longing, I thrust up to meet her, and Janet cried out in delight. I clamped a hand over her mouth, purely because I didn’t want anyone to hear her and come sticking their nose through the door. Janet took a couple of my fingers into her mouth and started sucking on them while simultaneously using them as a gag. She ground herself against me, the combination of the Warrior’s Salve and her own juices squelching as we bucked and writhed.
“That’s it,” she groaned. “That’s right. Fuck me like you did after the Iron Maiden concert.”
That was going to be rather difficult, due to my memory having been hazed by an excess of bourbon whisky. However, I took a guess at what Janet wanted and pounded up into her so that our thighs slapped together. In response, she cried out in fresh cries of delight, so it seemed my guess, if it wasn’t correct, did the trick all the same. I leaned forward, took one of her nipples in my mouth, and flicked my tongue across it.
We continued going at it, me pounding her with all my strength while she continued to grind against me, her eyes rolling back while her tongue flashed across her lips.
I thrust up so hard at one point that I almost bucked Janet right off of me, and she fell sideways onto the sofa with a startled laugh.
“Is that a hint that you don’t want me on top anymore?” she asked.
“I’ll have you any way I can get you.” I grinned as I looked at her.
“From behind then,” she said authoritatively. She knelt up on the sofa, so that her breasts were resting on the headrest and beckoned at me.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I nudged her legs apart as wide as they would go with my knee, grabbed Janet by her phenomenal ass, and plunged my cock into her. Then I started pounding away at her with complete abandon, unable to control myself.
We fucked like this for what seemed like ages, Janet rubbing her clit as I went to town on her from behind just as she had asked. The soft slap of flesh on flesh, the rasp of our breathing, and the soft squelching, sucking noise as I plowed into her was all that broke the still silence of the study room.
Then, abruptly, Janet let out a cry, and her back arched. She thrust her ass toward me and her legs quivered as she came. Following her lead, I let myself go. The rush of our joint climax, as well as the delightful tingling of the Warrior’s Salve all over our bodies, sent us both rigid. With a soft simultaneous sigh, we folded onto the sofa.
Sex with Janet was proving to be consistently fantastic—as good as it was that night we fucked for the first time after the Iron Maiden concert—but the pillow talk, on this occasion, was a little more business-like than it had been before.
“You should check your spellbook,” she said, almost immediately, a knowing grin playing over her glowing face.
“Oh yeah?” I said. I was very much eager to see if I’d learned any new spells, but hearing her eagerness was almost too much to believe. No whispered sweet nothings or an hour of silent cuddling. Not that I minded such things, but learning a new spell? Well, now we were talking about magic.
“Yep,” Janet answered. “You’re the only mage I know who can learn spells without an inscriber. Go on then. Let’s see what you got.”
I hauled myself to my feet and grabbed my clothes from the bathroom. Being the consummate gentleman, I also grabbed Janet’s discarded clothing too.
“All right.” I sat back down on the sofa and extracted my spellbook from my jacket pocket. “What am I looking for exactly?”
“I guess we’ll see,” Janet said.
I flicked through my spellbook. My finger stopped on a page.
“It seems, Miss Thunderstone, that I have a new spell.”
Janet grinned shyly. “Good, it worked. I had a fresh spell inscribed the other day. I couldn’t let Enwyn keep giving you all the reasons to sleep with her, could I?”
I smiled appreciatively and re-read the spell.
TELEKINESIS
Manipulate an object at a distance. Limited to strength and dexterity of the caster.
While I was reading, Janet had flicked through her spellbook. Her eyes lit up as she scanned a page.
“Awesome!” she said. “I had the same spell that this little hook-up gave you, but now it’s upgraded to Greater Telekinesis!”
I laughed. “I’m glad I could be of service.”
Janet smiled at me, leaned over, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You can service me anytime.” Her gaze slipped from me and came to rest on the mantelpiece.
“Holy shit!” she cried, leaping to her feet, grabbing her pants and pulling them on. “Is that the time? I should have been in my Basic Traps Class a quarter of an hour ago!”
She pulled on the rest of her clothes in record time. It was a credit to her that, moments after having some extremely vigorous sex, she only looked a little disheveled.
“Show yourself out, sugar!” she called out and made for the door.
“You’re just going to hump me and dump me, huh?” I said in a mock aggrieved tone.
Janet paused at the door and winked. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.” She blew me a kiss and was gone. The door closed with a snap.
After Janet had gone, I got dressed more slowly. When I was done, I thought I’d test out the new spell and see just where my limitations lay. Focusing on a large storage cabinet in one corner of the room, I let loose the spell. The cabinet wobbled, rose a little, and thumped back down.
“That was a little taxing, but I can lift your fat ass,” I said to the solid piece of furniture.
I tried again. Focused harder. Dug deeper into my mana reserves. The cabinet rose again, this time about a yard off the ground.
“Put me down!” a voice said from the cabinet.
That voice broke my concentration and sent the cabinet back to earth with a sharp bang.
The door creaked open, and none other than Cecilia Chillgrave stepped out from between the coats and jackets hanging up in there.
“What the hell are you doing in a cabinet?” I asked. Then, more prudently, I asked, “And how long have you been in there?”
Cecilia blushed, her blonde hair hanging over her face, but she didn’t look away. ”Long enough to see what happened between you and Janet.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. I could feel a slight smile playing over my face.
“I didn’t mean to watch,” Cecilia said quickly, “but I knew Janet was studying here today, and I wanted to borrow some lipstick. No one was in here when I came in, then the two of you burst in from the bathroom naked, and I didn’t know what else to do, darling! I didn’t want to ruin the mood, you understand.”
“So you watched?” I asked.
“I confess I did, yes.” Cecilia’s ice-chip eyes bore into mine. “I couldn’t look away.”
I took a few steps toward her and held out my hand. Cecilia advanced, still looking at me and took it.
“Did you like what you saw?” I asked.
“I must say that I got a little bit hot under the collar,” Cecilia said. “A little bit envious.”
This was exactly what I wanted to hear, and I was just a little bit disappointed that Cecilia hadn’t jumped out and joined in.
I pulled Cecilia to me and bent my head to kiss her.
Cecilia placed a finger to my lips and stopped me. She was smiling teasingly. “Uh-uh. An elf of my stock isn’t so easy to claim, Mr. Mauler.”
“What have I got to do? Pass a test or something?” I asked.
Cecilia considered this. “I want us to get to know each other better,” she said, after a moment. “So, I want you to team up with me in a Mage Game Exhibition Match.”
Chapter Twenty
I placed the two ice-cold drinks down on the small table and took a seat opposite Cecilia Chillgrave. We were sitting at one of the many tables around the enormous pool—the first of the Academy’s locations that I’d visited after Enwyn had brought me here.
Now, it was the end of yet another school day. The sun was sitting low in the sky, a bronze coin dipping toward the horizon. Unidentifiable nighttime insects were just beginning to wake up as they flew excitedly around the oil lamps that flickered on each table. There were a handful of Storm and Frost Elementals hanging out in the pool, enjoying the warm air.
I grasped my crystal goblet. The sweat on the glass was the epitome of a summer’s evening.
“So,” I said, eyeing the deep crimson liquid and looking skeptically at Cecilia, “do I want to know what the fuck boiled blood brandy is?”
Cecilia laughed. She raised her own glass to her lips and took a long, sensuous sip. She watched me the whole time, her ice-chip blue eyes gazing at me from under half-closed lids. It was in that moment that I realized just how sexy eyelids could be. Women sure had a lot of weapons at their disposal when it came to the manipulation and seduction of their male counterparts. Sexy eyelids?
“Mmm,” she said, swallowing. “It’s scrumptious, darling. But I know how easily you humans are put off by knowing the nature or origin of something—even if it is beneficial for you or tastes delicious—so maybe just trust me on this and drink up.”
She had a point there. Us humans spent a lot of our lives playing ignorant to all sorts of things. Just ask anyone who indulged in a couple of game-day hotdogs.
I took a sip of my drink. Initially, it caressed my tongue like sweet strawberry wine. When I swallowed, I was left with a sort of bitter, metallic taste that reminded me of an Aperol Spritz back in my world. There was something herbal about it, though organic might have been the better word.
“Not bad,” I said, taking another swig.
“The best part,” Cecilia said, “is when it actually enters your blood. Give it a moment, darling.”
I wondered what she meant by that. Then a wonderful sensation pulsed down my limbs. It was a tingling that felt as if the blood was fizzing through my veins, followed by a deeply mellowing sensation.
I sank deeper into my chair and gazed out at the pool. Was it my imagination, or was the glittering water more full of sparkle than it had been a minute ago? I looked up at the sky, and the deepening colors of the setting sun seemed richer than I had ever seen them.
“Shiiit,” I said, feeling incredibly content and at peace with the world.
I looked over at Cecilia. The way she was grinning told me that, so long as she had a Kit-Kat, I had half of it. The feeling was mutual.
“Feeling rather splendid all of a sudden, darling?” she asked.
“I’ve never felt more relaxed in my life,” I said.
“Excellent. That’s just what I wanted. You’ll find that this rather naughty beverage makes one focus entirely on the conversation and company at hand too. This is advantageous because the reason I asked to meet you after class was that I thought we should have a chat about the Exhibition match.”
I nodded. I figured I had a rough idea of what to expect, but if experience of the magical world had taught me one thing, it was that expectations were about as much use as an ice-cream dildo.
“Sounds smart,” I said. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Just things in general,” Cecilia said. “You see, although the words ‘exhibition match’ might sound friendly and slightly unimportant, these matches are actually extremely important. They can dictate a mage’s future at the Academy.”
This was news to me. Back in my world, anything that was deemed as an exhibition usually had nothing but pride hanging on it.
“How so?” I asked, taking another sip of the boiled blood brandy. “And, if there’s so much riding on these games, how come you chose me? Don’t get me wrong, any chance I get to see you in some sort of alluringly tight combat outfit is one that I’m not going to pass up on. Still, there must be some other candidates who’d be of more help to you than me?”
“I didn’t just pick you for your charisma and rugged good looks, darling,” Cecilia said, winking at me. “I put some serious thought into it.” She took a long pull on her drink and ran her tongue over her lips pensively. “You see these are not like the official matches where fraternities typically enter their teams, but they’re kind of a precursor to the official thing. In these matches, mages can choose to pair up with anyone they like.”
“Anyone?” I asked. “Even someone from outside of the Academy?”
Cecilia shook her head. “Not from outside the Academy, but mages from opposing fraternities and sororities are allowed to pair up in the exhibition matches. Whereas, in the Mage Games proper, partners and teammates have to be picked from a mage’s own frat or sorority.”
“That’s no worry for me,” I said. “When it comes to guys having my back, I haven’t got a doubt that all the boys in my frat are rock solid.”
“Of course, but these exhibition matches are a little different in that they are tactical.”
“Tactical how?”
“Well, you want to pick someone who is going to help you showcase your own abilities. A mage who is going to complement your fighting style, ensure a victory and he
lp make you look even better than you are.”
“Why?” I asked. “Isn’t winning the main goal?”
“Of course, darling,” Cecilia said, “but not the sole goal. The showcasing of one’s abilities—through one’s own individual prowess and that of their partner—is key in attracting the attention of potential sponsors.”
“Sponsors?” I asked. I was starting to feel like a broken record with all these questions, but then this was all immensely interesting to me.
Cecilia inclined her graceful Elven head. “Yes indeed. The Mage Games are a huge enterprise. Where millions of eyes are glued, you will find enterprising men and women out to turn attention into gold.”
“Sounds just like home,” I said.
I looked out over the pool. A few of the Storm Elementals were stirring up the water, causing minor whirlpools to form at the deep end. The Elemental women dragged each other under, roaring and laughing. I doubted whether they were on the old boiled blood brandy. If I’d been thrown into the pool in my current state I thought I’d probably just sink happily to the bottom.
“So, what sort of sponsors are looking to pick up promising War Mages?” I asked.
Cecilia waved her hand airily. I noticed that her drink was finished. “Oh, all sorts, darling,” she said. “Broomstick manufacturers, potion dealers, blacksmiths, and weapon-makers. All the sorts of things that one might use during battles to the regenerated death.”
“And, what? They supply you with their gear for free and you wear it when you’re out fighting and competing in the arena?”
Cecilia snapped her fingers regally. “Correct. Ah, could I have two more of those, please?”
A silver-haired nymph with obsidian eyes had appeared at our side. She smiled and bowed and moved gracefully away toward the bar.
“Yes, there are all those sorts of perks, of course. Free gear is something that most War Mages covet. But there are other sponsors—a whole smorgasbord of special interest groups and magical corporations, like the Goblin’s Rights Commision, who want representation and are willing to pay in gold or favors for it.”