A gay sex story: Summertime Magic
When Seb found Michael’s boxer-briefs carelessly slung on the bathroom rail, he knew he had everything he needed to cast a love spell. The rag was loaded with the cute stoner boy’s essence, worn several days without change, and daubed repeatedly with lovely drops of pee. Seb rushed up to his attic room with his prize, sniffing them out and jerking himself dreamily in the afternoon heat.
Michael was such a total babe – a bashful straight-boy dropout, blushing and bleary-eyed from all the pot he smoked morning to night. Sebastian was crushing on him since the moment they met, but Mikey was always bringing girls home – a new blonde Devonshire hippy-chick every week. It made Seb so jealous. He just wanted to put a complete stop to it, tell Michael he’s grounded like he was his Dad, and make him worship Dick instead.
He was actually old enough to be the lad’s Dad. Mikey was only 21. He’d just graduated the same art school Seb attended 15 years before. But the age gap didn’t bother him. Michael was begging for a Daddy with his hopeless wasteman behaviour. He needed someone like Seb to look after him.
They’d become housemates through a series of random events and mutual friends. Michael was the newest (and youngest) tenant in a busy house of 6 rooms with all kinds of comings and goings. Artists and musicians, lovers and brawlers on every floor. The old abode was a ruin of faded grandeur with cracked ceilings and creaky boards. Seb had lived there 10 years already, watching the world from his attic. It was the perfect hideout from which to practice his magic.
As evening wore on, bleeding wonderful colours into the sky, Seb guessed that Michael would be missing his trunks. He knew the skater-boy didn’t have many. He kept close watch on Michael’s laundry and never counted more than three shorts hanging. A blue-green stripy one, a purple stripy one, and a dark blue one, all shabby and threadbare. Seb watched fondly for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, glimpses of the purple stripes on the skater-boy’s butt cheeks, counting the days he went without swapping them out for a clean pair. Michael never imagined anyone would be taking note of his pants habits, but Seb always checked.
It was the blue-green stripey one draped on his face tonight. The musk in Michael’s cannabis pee-spots was mind-blowing. Seb had never experienced anything like it. It was at once the sexiest AND the most disgusting smell he’d ever gagged on. He couldn’t get enough, hyperventilating to keep a steady hit blasting up his nostrils. He was in love, and he would cast a spell to make the boy his.
Opening his books, Seb did wonder for a moment if it was right? It wasn’t – there was no getting around it. But he wanted Michael. Nothing would stop him. He knew he was about to do something wrong, and prepared himself mentally for the sin, brushing voices of conscience aside.
Seb had completed serval magic spells by now, surprising himself with a high success rate, but it was low-level thaumaturgy. He’d never cast a real spell on a whole person before. He didn’t know if he was even capable of such grand magic.
He’d read enough to know he needed the help of an Angel. Several Angels were associated wth sex magic. Seb decided to invoke Babalon in the seventh Aethyr, D-E-O, using the seventh angelic call, which would open the Water Subtangle of the Watchtower Tablet of Air. At least he thought that was right? This was a fair bit beyond his level of expertise tbh. He never summoned anything before. It wasn’t something a magician did lightly, and if you’re going to pester an Angel you better have a good excuse.
Thumbing the pages for diagrams and guides, he checked a quick apotropaic ritual to protect himself from demonic influences. He also made sure he was totally fucking high on that mad heavy gange Theo sold them the day before. The spirits like it when people get high.
With these precautions done, Seb followed the steps laid out by the Mages and kind of spun out. He didn’t see anything trippy the way he wanted to. Adepts were supposed to get crazy visions and float over the abyss, but Seb only heard a voice. It was a woman’s voice, which he guessed must Babalon herself,
“What dost thou seek, Inamorato?” it soughed.
“…Michael,” Seb muttered, sniffing the boy’s panties dreamily, his mind a blot with thoughts of Michael’s little willy.
“Thy desire betokens much desport,” the Angel chuckled, “Should I grant thee dominion over him?”
“…yes” Seb sighed into the ether.
“Don his skibs, heshed with his malt, and thy puppet his peenie shall be.”
He never heard those words before, but he knew exactly what they meant. That is all that was said. Seb passed out after that.
Michael woke the next day with a raging hard-on. He was rarely up at this hour, but today for some reason he was wide awake and horny AF. His pits smelled good, his dick smelled good, he felt so sexy. He thought it must be Theo’s skunk giving him the stoner boner, but he was wrong.
Seb had woken in his room above at much the same time. Unusually alert, the practical details of Babalon’s spell became clearer as he pondered his dream of the night before. She had awarded him command and mastery of Michael’s stubby. When he wore the boy’s stolen boxers, anything he did with his penis would be dittoed by Michael’s own. As above, so below.
Wasting no time Seb reached down for the stolen shorts, snatching another sneaky sniff before pulling them on. The stroke of Mikey’s shabby fabrics gave him a thumping stiffy before they were even up, and he let the waistband slap loudly on his belly as he nestled them into place. He could see it all in his mind’s eye – a projection of the fit-lad’s cock and balls superimposed on his own. If Seb touched his dick, Michael would feel it too.
In the room directly below, their beds almost aligned, Michael lazed in a sexual swoon. He was hard because Seb was hard. His penis obeyed Seb’s penis. With slow deliberate caresses, Seb ran a sensuous finger up and down his shaft, making Michael cringe with mysterious pretty feelings at the base of his handsome choad,
“…woah, fuck!” Michael gasped, staring at his dick in astonishment.
“Yes Mikey,” Seb whispered, having heard Michael’s innocent exclamations through the power of his magic.
After giving the lad a few minutes of this teasing arousal, pushing his fingertips over his thighs and behind his balls, he jumped into the main event and took a firm grip on his long rod through the cotton of Michael’s shorts.
Michael tensed,
“Fuck! What the…!?”
Seb wanked himself steady and true, and Michael had to endure the same, his erection surging with unnatural, borrowed lusts. He surrendered to the hex, his whole body curving to Seb’s rule, his groin shredded with enforced pleasure. And as he breached climax, Michael’s dick became a fountain, the cum gushing upwards to spray his chest and bedsheets with generous splashes, his mind gone blank in the bliss.
Panting in the mess, Michael took stock of what had just happened to him. That was the best squirt of his whole life, and he didn’t even touch his dick once! A total hands-free cum of heavenly dimensions that came out of nowhere. it made him feel kinda Boss.
He got out of bed with more than his usual swagger. Where were his missing boxers tho? The blue-green ones were his favourite, and he couldn’t think where they might be? Wiping himself down, he tried to focus his thoughts on the day ahead, but all he could think about was how sexy he was. His nice boner wasn’t going down either. Slipping into his dirty purple shorts, he buttoned his jeans and made for the kitchen in search of coffee.
He decided to go shirtless. He knew that Rosy and Seb both fancied him. He’d seen them checking him out, and he wanted them to see just how fucking hot he was today.
As luck would have it, Seb was already downstairs balancing a percolator on the hob.
“Morning, Mate,” Seb grinned, his enormous pupils dilating to take in the vision of cocky, boyish fitness that stood before him..
This was just the kind of attention Mikey had been hoping for, clocking how Seb shot glances at his nipples and purple shorts. Their connection felt electric today. Little did he know his missing boxers were on the gayboy standing there. Seb could see the lighting sparks leaping between them, the spell keeping them in contact, their cheeky boners in sync.
This feeling went unspoken, both chatting with one another like normal, but the eyes communicated more than their words. Michael couldn’t help but wonder about his friend. How was Seb still single? He was obviously a really hot guy, even a straight lad could see that. The salt and pepper grey hairs in his temples and beard only improved his manly looks. He was tall and broad and in great shape. Always wearing his cut-off black vests. Sure he was a bit spooky with tarot and that, but Michael thought the magic stuff was kind of cool and mysterious. He’d asked him about it once or twice. Seb even promised to give him a tarot reading, but they hadn’t got round to it yet.
All these thought’s were Michael’s own. Babalon might have granted Seb power of his body, but his mind was out of the bargain. If the boy enjoyed any aspect of the bewitchment it was genuine, and standing now in the presence of his secret master he felt a nagging sense of attraction.
Michael couldn’t hang about though. He had a band practice to get to. Seb wished him the best with the rehearsal and went back upstairs with his coffee. Rosy yawned into the kitchen next, but her flirtations didn’t hold Michael’s attention somehow. He took his cheeky semi with him to the studio instead.
It was the first time he ever got their before the others. Mickey was usually always late. the guys had even formed a habit of showing up later than the agreed time to save them waiting for him. He was just so full of beans today, and itching to hope on his drums. Setting up to his satisfaction, Michael ran through his favourite beats.
Was the heat in that basement studio, or was it the music making him so hard in his pants? The rhythms just felt so sexy, he was getting more of those hands-free pleasures from this morning. But it wasn’t his dick this time. It was his butt. He’d never felt butt feelings like this before. The beats were teasing somewhere deep inside. It was just so naughty and nice.
[zilla_likes]