2025-09-25, 07:40 PM
Chapter One: Old Friends
I lay on my belly on the ancient oriental rug that nearly completely covered Bethany's bedroom floor, closely examining the art of a Batman comic book I had just finished reading. Having a natural talent for art (specifically drawing) I was always studying the art of others, learning by example, often copying their use of lines and shading techniques for practice. Comic book art was of particular interest for its stylized use of line and color.
Glancing up, I watched my girlfriend, Bethany, hunched over a glass of water, her long, curly black hair falling around her face like a thick veil. At the bottom of the glass was a needle she dropped in about a half an hour earlier, a needle she was trying to move with the power of her mind. It was an exercise she read about in one of her many books on witchcraft, one of a countless number of exercises she'd tried in the past few years in an attempt at gaining magic powers. Considering myself a man of science, I scoffed at the whole notion of magic, but kept my views to myself out of respect for our relationship, and, to be honest, to not cut off the sole source of my receiving the occasional blow job.
While we were sexually active in every other possible way, we had not had actually fucked. I did once sort of fuck her, sliding my lubed cock up and down her labia, stroking her clit in the process. It was awkward, and I was constantly fighting the urge to just "accidentally" slip my cock inside, but I restrained myself to only what she would allow. In the end, we both got off- and without the possibility of any unwanted rug rats becoming the result of the desires we had for each other that always found ourselves naked.
Bethany was openminded about sexual experimentation, a fact I did not fully realize until the tomboy I knew as my childhood friend expressed her love for me when we were fourteen. In those early days, I was battling with my sexuality, aware of an attraction for other guys I was pretty sure the guys at my school did not share. Her nearly insatiable interest in sex kept my mind on pussy (specifically hers) and my balls drained.
In the beginning, she insisted we start masturbating together. First, while we watched each other, then doing it for the other. It wasn't long after she began employing oral and I found myself following her instructions of how to eat her pussy the way she liked it. In time, I got creative and began experimenting with different moves, like a musician composing variations on a theme. It never really went beyond oral and masturbation, because neither of us wanted to be teen parents. Sometimes I'd just get my blow job and be sent home without any expectation of reciprocation. You know you've lucked into finding the right girl when she loves sucking your cock nearly as much as you love getting head.
"God damn it!" she hissed, raising and twisting her head to stretch the kink out of her neck, "This is useless. I'm never going to be able to do this."
"Not with that attitude," I teased her, the best I could do to stop myself from howling with laughter at the absurdity of the subject. Despite my firm belief that the whole premise of witchcraft was born from superstitious bullshit, I continued to be a source of encouragement to my best friend/girlfriend. And did I mention she sucks me off? No way I'm going to do or say anything to fuck that up.
"Maybe you should try it," she suggested with a wicked smile I was all too familiar with. Ever since we were kids, she was always getting us into trouble, or challenging me to do something I otherwise knew better about, and always employing that same smile. She was always the boss, always the leader, and I was always following her lead like a stray puppy, which is how I earned her nickname for me.
"Oh, no!" I protested, "You're not dragging me into your Devil worship."
"Please, Puppy," she pouted, "I'll make it worth your while."
God damn mother fucking bitch! As much as I was willing to do to feel her plump lips wrapped around my cock, she used that weakness against me with equal success. Rolling my eyes and closing the comic, I pushed myself up on my knees and crawled to her, sitting cross-legged in front of her, the glass of water between us.
"What do I do?" I sighed with defeat, accepting my place at the bottom of the sexual food chain.
"It's pretty simple, really. You just will the needle to move."
"Oh, when you put it like that..."
"The water is supposed to lend some buoyancy to the needle, making it easier to move. That's the theory, anyway."
"Theory?" I asked incredulously, the logic-based centers of my mind screaming for me to put an end to this immediately, but my dick told my brain to shut the fuck up, "Okay, let's test this "theory' of yours."
I considered the needle, lying at a slight angle against the side of the glass, then focused on the water. Buoyancy. I focused on the water thickening around the needle, then rejecting it as if it were a foreign object in the body. The needle shifted slightly, and Bethany sucked in a sound of surprise that I barely acknowledged. My mind was focused with pinpoint precision on the needle now, lifting it until it stood upright.
"Oh, my god," she breathed with barely a whisper.
I lay on my belly on the ancient oriental rug that nearly completely covered Bethany's bedroom floor, closely examining the art of a Batman comic book I had just finished reading. Having a natural talent for art (specifically drawing) I was always studying the art of others, learning by example, often copying their use of lines and shading techniques for practice. Comic book art was of particular interest for its stylized use of line and color.
Glancing up, I watched my girlfriend, Bethany, hunched over a glass of water, her long, curly black hair falling around her face like a thick veil. At the bottom of the glass was a needle she dropped in about a half an hour earlier, a needle she was trying to move with the power of her mind. It was an exercise she read about in one of her many books on witchcraft, one of a countless number of exercises she'd tried in the past few years in an attempt at gaining magic powers. Considering myself a man of science, I scoffed at the whole notion of magic, but kept my views to myself out of respect for our relationship, and, to be honest, to not cut off the sole source of my receiving the occasional blow job.
While we were sexually active in every other possible way, we had not had actually fucked. I did once sort of fuck her, sliding my lubed cock up and down her labia, stroking her clit in the process. It was awkward, and I was constantly fighting the urge to just "accidentally" slip my cock inside, but I restrained myself to only what she would allow. In the end, we both got off- and without the possibility of any unwanted rug rats becoming the result of the desires we had for each other that always found ourselves naked.
Bethany was openminded about sexual experimentation, a fact I did not fully realize until the tomboy I knew as my childhood friend expressed her love for me when we were fourteen. In those early days, I was battling with my sexuality, aware of an attraction for other guys I was pretty sure the guys at my school did not share. Her nearly insatiable interest in sex kept my mind on pussy (specifically hers) and my balls drained.
In the beginning, she insisted we start masturbating together. First, while we watched each other, then doing it for the other. It wasn't long after she began employing oral and I found myself following her instructions of how to eat her pussy the way she liked it. In time, I got creative and began experimenting with different moves, like a musician composing variations on a theme. It never really went beyond oral and masturbation, because neither of us wanted to be teen parents. Sometimes I'd just get my blow job and be sent home without any expectation of reciprocation. You know you've lucked into finding the right girl when she loves sucking your cock nearly as much as you love getting head.
"God damn it!" she hissed, raising and twisting her head to stretch the kink out of her neck, "This is useless. I'm never going to be able to do this."
"Not with that attitude," I teased her, the best I could do to stop myself from howling with laughter at the absurdity of the subject. Despite my firm belief that the whole premise of witchcraft was born from superstitious bullshit, I continued to be a source of encouragement to my best friend/girlfriend. And did I mention she sucks me off? No way I'm going to do or say anything to fuck that up.
"Maybe you should try it," she suggested with a wicked smile I was all too familiar with. Ever since we were kids, she was always getting us into trouble, or challenging me to do something I otherwise knew better about, and always employing that same smile. She was always the boss, always the leader, and I was always following her lead like a stray puppy, which is how I earned her nickname for me.
"Oh, no!" I protested, "You're not dragging me into your Devil worship."
"Please, Puppy," she pouted, "I'll make it worth your while."
God damn mother fucking bitch! As much as I was willing to do to feel her plump lips wrapped around my cock, she used that weakness against me with equal success. Rolling my eyes and closing the comic, I pushed myself up on my knees and crawled to her, sitting cross-legged in front of her, the glass of water between us.
"What do I do?" I sighed with defeat, accepting my place at the bottom of the sexual food chain.
"It's pretty simple, really. You just will the needle to move."
"Oh, when you put it like that..."
"The water is supposed to lend some buoyancy to the needle, making it easier to move. That's the theory, anyway."
"Theory?" I asked incredulously, the logic-based centers of my mind screaming for me to put an end to this immediately, but my dick told my brain to shut the fuck up, "Okay, let's test this "theory' of yours."
I considered the needle, lying at a slight angle against the side of the glass, then focused on the water. Buoyancy. I focused on the water thickening around the needle, then rejecting it as if it were a foreign object in the body. The needle shifted slightly, and Bethany sucked in a sound of surprise that I barely acknowledged. My mind was focused with pinpoint precision on the needle now, lifting it until it stood upright.
"Oh, my god," she breathed with barely a whisper.