Chapter 16: Sexperiments
Kristen rejected the offer of the house’s cramped third bedroom that night.
I didn’t blame her: getting to the twin bed in the corner past all the junk my wife’d packed in there after moving in with me was an exercise in gymnastic coordination and good fortune.
Yet, I am not so aspy that I mistakenly believed the bedroom’s conversion to a junk storage space was her primary reason for turning that option down. No, it was crystal clear, even to me: our matchmaking effort was bearing fruit.
Kaitlyn and I didn’t hear too much noise from the second bedroom, the one Carlo was using, but he and Kristen looked rather chipper at breakfast, trading lots of casual touches, strokes, and pregnant gazes.
‘If we could get Carlo and Kristen together as a committed couple…’ I thought wistfully to myself, trailing off into idle musing.
This eventually brought me to a topic for our breakfast al fresco out on the new slate patio. “My students, one of the things we’ve figured out about sex magic is that it only works in couples or greater. As far as we can tell, a masturbating mage is no more powerful than one working without the distraction, most likely less so. For some reason, though, two mages having sex can do far more powerful magic together than each alone, and a magical three-way is something like ten times more powerful than couples sex.”
Carlo put one and two together and came up with the correct answer: “You’ve had a threesome! You, Kristen, and Kaitlyn, I mean.”
“Twice, actually,” I agreed, then told him about how we’d healed a couple of forests. “How’s that coming, by the way, Kristen?”
“I checked in on the way up: the pine beetle infestation’s gone,” she reported, then added, “Scientists are baffled,” waving her hands and quavering her voice mysteriously.
We all laughed at that.
“Well, the next question after ‘how many’ is whether sex magic is necessarily heterosexual. Must it be a man and a woman, or can it be any two mages regardless of gender or sexual orientation? Is it tied to procreation, or passion, or what? If I’d dropped out of that threesome in the forest, Kristen and Kaitlyn would certainly have been less effective than what we did do together, but would the result have been like what my wife and I can do?”
Sounding a bit morally affronted, Kristen demanded, “Well, why wouldn’t lesbian sex magic be just as powerful? Are you some sort of heteronormative…” Here she trailed off, perhaps to avoid saying a word she’d regret leveling at me.
“Bigot?” I guessed. Kristen colored slightly, telling me that I’d scored a direct hit, but I waved it away. “Lookit, Kristen, we simply don’t have enough data to be making any sort of judgement. We won’t know until we try.”
“If it’s tied to procreation,” my wife observed, “then we should expect that only a mixed group of male and female mages can do effective sex magic, with the best groups being a 50/50 mix. That’s a testable hypothesis, y’all. Guessing and huffing about social equality won’t answer the question, only doing the science will, and science begins with observation. We must attempt homosexual magic if we want to know what it can do. I’m socially liberal enough to want Davie’s procreation hypothesis to be wrong, but to bust it, we’ll have to show that Kristen and I can do more powerful magic with lesbian sex magic than we could each do alone.”
I just nodded my agreement, not taking offense.
“Aww,” cooed Kristen, “ever since last month, I’ve wanted to jump your bones girl-on-girl, Kaitlyn, and you know it.” She turned to Carlo and added, “Sorry to go bed-hopping on you so soon into our relationship, babe, but if you try to deny me this experience, I’m gone.”
“Hey, I just met you,” he said, holding his hands up defensively. “I don’t have any strong claim on you yet.” Then with a lip bite and a small smile, he stressed, “Yet.”
“Great!” my wife exclaimed. “Davie likes me to get this kind of thing out of my system from time to time, and it’s definitely time.”
Kristen asked, “So, what’re we going to do to test it? Do for the garden what we did for the forests?”
“No,” my wife said with a shake of her head, “it needs to be something much bigger, more visible, and measurable. Besides, Davie and I’ve already got the garden handled.” She thought for a bit, then proposed, “Let’s extend the shower area patio around the edges of the yard, leaving a space in the center for massages, with a fire pit for picnics or nighttime playing.”
We discussed this plan for a while, looking down at the new patio for reference, pointing and ideating as we refined the new additions. In the end, we choked the sandy massage area in the center back to just enough for four people to work comfortably in, a client couple and we two therapists, the rest magically paved.
The new patio design being settled, my wife said, “Kristen, you’re strong enough to bring up the slate for this alone. Sintering the gaps shut with sand glass is more difficult, though still within your reach, so to make it a real challenge, I want you to bring up a sandstone foundation underneath the existing patio so it stays flat. There’s a big section of it down there; feel it?” Kristen nodded. “At orgasm, use the power of the sex magic to bring it up slowly, sinking the sand down under it, leveling its top, and bringing it right up underneath this very patio.” I tapped my foot under the table for emphasis.
“All right,” Kristen replied slowly, uncertainly.
“The hardest part,” my wife added, “will be releasing the orgasmic power steadily enough that you don’t shove our house foundation aside with the material you push upward. I can hold onto the release and help you out there, but be careful: it’d suck if you broke our house.”
Kristen took a deep steadying breath and said, “Okay.”
I stepped in at this point, saying, “To complete this experiment, we need to try all of the options.” I looked meaningfully at Carlo.
“What‽” he said, shocked. “You want to do…that? With me?”
“As much as you’re willing to, yeah,” I said, then added challengingly, “…for science!”
He continued to look skeptical, so I went on, “Carlo, I’m not even a little bit attracted to you, and I won’t be insulted if you return the sentiment, but we’re the only two known male mages. Our women are willing to try it their way, so I think we should to contribute our own data to the experiment.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said with a scrunched up face, clearly slightly disgusted.
That made Carlo the target of Kristen’s judgmental eye now. “Are you homophobic, Carlo?” she demanded.
He looked quite uncomfortable. “Um… I mean, no… Y’know, everyone’s free to, um…”
The boy was sinking, so I threw him a lifesaver. “Carlo, lovemaking is based on reciprocity: you shouldn’t ask someone to do something for you that you’d be unwilling to do yourself, if asked. Take Kaitlyn and I: we haven’t done much butt stuff, but she’s polished my pole, so if you ask me for that in the context of this experiment, Carlo, I’ll have no ground to refuse.”
Kristen put her fists on her hips and looked meaningfully at Carlo.
With a quirk to his mouth, Carlo temporized, “You want to suck me off?”
I shrugged a bit. “More like I’m willing, if you want to try it.” Then I reminded him, “For science.”
While he was thinking, Kristen coughed theatrically and gave him a raised eyebrow.
“Ah!” he cried in the tone of a man receiving enlightenment. “It has just occurred to me that I also cannot honorably refuse to offer…that.”
He didn’t need to go into details; I can complete the syllogism. Kaitlyn happily agreed to fellate me when I asked, so I may no longer honorably refuse that request from another under similar circumstances; Carlo feels he also cannot refuse, so someone licked his lolly, and it didn’t take a logician to work out who. Or when.
I looked over at Kristen. She just grinned and nodded once.
With an artfully sexy lilt to her tone, she addressed Carlo, “G’wan, please? I’m curious, too.”
With that, he gave a sharp nod. “Davie, will you…?”
His trailing tone undermined his decisive mien, but I replied, “Yes, Carlo, I will willingly swallow your schlong for Science. Ideally, we’d give this experiment to a gay mage couple, but we’re all that’s available at the moment.”
“For science,” he breathed in answer, still sounding a bit reluctant. “No kissing,” he added.
“No kissing,” I agreed with a smile, “just good old-fashioned cock sucking.”
“That was not a phrase I expected to hear when I agreed to be your artist for hire,” he replied with a small smile of his own.
Kristen and Kaitlyn didn’t have any of their menfolk’s reservations. As soon as we settled our ethical debate, my wife nearly tackled Kristen into the sand patch, passionately going at her like they were long-time lovers reuniting after a forced separation.
Being a normal young het male, Carlo watched avidly, his stiffy at half-mast in seconds. I wasn’t far behind him.
Logically, two women having sex should make heterosexual males think, “Hey, fewer unattached women in the world! This is bad!” My pet theory why it made men like Carlo and I hot instead is simple: naked women are nice to look at, a woman having sex is even nicer to look at, and two is better than one. Period, end of explanation, no logic deeper than is needed to explain why chocolates come more than one to a box.
Since it was clear that our women were entirely focused on each other, I knelt before Carlo, looked meaningfully up at him, and on not getting an objection, sucked him down, doing for him what Kaitlyn did for me, using knowledge fed back through our bond. I worked from direct feedback rather than simply piling guesswork upon my baseline experience as a man.
In rapport with Carlo, he knew my mind, experiencing the act as I did, moaning loudly, “Damn, Davie! If I didn’t know better, I’d accuse you of lying about never having done this before!”
Stimulation is stimulation, so I knew it was working for Carlo on a physical level. What I didn’t know is if it went beyond that. Was I only offering him warmth and friction, or…?
«I am close!» Carlo told me through the bond.
I used my magic to hold off his ejaculation while I showed him how to build a durable magical barrier to prevent his orgasm. I then loosed all of my controls, giving him the best blowjob I could manage. My own cock bobbed along with my working, not in empathy but in literal sympathy: what Carlo felt, I felt, so I was essentially auto-fellating myself through our bond. My Gaia-granted strength would’ve allowed me to spin him around our coupling point without breaking my lip-lock until he formed an erotic ouroboros with me, Carlo working me in an inverted 69, but that would’ve been redundant.
We slammed up against the barrier, hard and repeatedly, cramming as much magic into his reservoir as possible, building his held power higher and higher until he was consciously willing to let go.
Shortly, he observed, «My reservoir’s full!»
It was just as well: my jaw was getting sore!
Our women were on a much slower burn, looking to go until lunch if we let them, so I returned my attention to Carlo. Through our rapport link, I sent, «All right, you feel that big chunk of sandstone down there?» It was clear which one I meant, so he signed his understanding to me back through the bond. I told him, «Bring it up just like Kaitlyn explained it to Kristen: slow, steady and careful!»
He grabbed my hair and started face-fucking me, pounding my throat. I used my body control to ease his passage, sucking him all the way down, my nose flattened in his pubes, my front teeth aching from the impacts.
“Grrraaaaaahhhh!” he cried aloud, holding me in place as he shot stream after stream down my gullet, clearly as physically pent up as he ever had been, despite all his recent nookie.
I held onto his bubble of magic while he used the venting spurt of it to carefully pull on the sandstone foundation I’d selected. «Pull!» I sent through the bond, unable to speak around my man-meat gag.
Carlo yelled, “I am! It isn’t moving!”
I sent, «All right, all right, don’t waste it! Pull that paving slate up from over there instead,» I told him, and I helped him, paving the three new areas Kaitlyn had chosen much faster than we’d done the first section together without sex magic.
Once his breathing calmed, he finally released me and said, “Well, crap. Kristen might profit from your BJ lessons, but magically, that was awfully disappointing.”
I took the time for a few deep breaths and swallows, nodding in understanding before observing, “You’re inexperienced, Carlo. Let me try.”
Nervously, he nodded. He knew he was ethically on the hook for it now.
I put a hand on his shoulder companionably and said, “You’ll like this, Carlo. Even if all I do is treat you like a piece of meat, the feedback on this is amazing!” Then I used my contact to teach him the body modification skills he’d need to gobble me down properly.
Lesson complete, I joked, “Relax, my oral virgin, I’ll be gentle. In fact, lay down, and let’s do this inverted so you don’t have to bend me backwards.”
Carlo lay open and exposed on the sand, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded once to invite me in.
I climbed atop him, letting him control my height with hands on my buns. Almost immediately after he began working tentatively on my tonker, I saw the problem: the magic simply wasn’t building nearly as fast as when Kaitlyn and I had sex in magical rapport with Gaia.
Wondering if my preconceptions and social biases were getting in the way of the experiment, I buckled down and kept trying harder and harder to pull up the sex magic, but it was just trickling into my reservoir, scarcely faster than it had back when we’d tried to do sex magic with masturbation.
I guessed that what I’d felt in Carlo when evaluating his magical reserve was its outer tension, not its volume. He’d gotten quite pent up there at the end, but only within a small space. A firecracker made out of TNT makes a bigger bang than one made out of black powder, but it’s still just a firecracker.
Carlo blew me to completion out of a sense of obligation, but when I finally let go, having filled my reservoir as much as I could manage, I pulled as hard as I could on the patio foundation, not holding back, but I only got it to come up maybe half a meter.
I gagged Carlo much more thoroughly than he did me, being considerably better endowed, but I didn’t hurt him. He slurped me down easily and patiently waited out my orgasm.
“Ttttthhhhhhsssssseeeeeyyaaaah!” I cried, toes curled back on the sand, arms straight, back bowed to shove my salami as far into Carlo as I could get it. When I relaxed, he was so stunned by the power of my release that he hung onto my buns too long, falling back to the sand with a heavy thupp!
I deflated myself quickly and healed Carlo’s minor injuries, then told him, “You’re right: fun, but not very effective.” I explained why I thought our efforts fizzled, adding, “Until we can get a genuine pair of gay mages to try this, I’m chalking this up as a failed experiment.”
“So they’re going to fail, too?” asked Carlo, referring to the women, Kristen now on top in a kneeling backwards bow pose, my wife repeatedly licking her from clit to crack and back, keeping her buns spread with her hands, simultaneously massaging her friend’s tight clenching gluteal muscles.
I thought about it, watching the show, eventually answering, “No, Carlo, I don’t think so. Look at them: they’re beyond physical gratification, into genuine passion. It’s obvious they’re both a bit bi, so it’s working better for them.” Carlo just nodded, so I added, “I’m now certain I’m not bi, not even a little.”
“Me, too,” he agreed, looking less happy about it than I’d guessed he might.
I soothed, “Good to know, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Carlo got under the solar shower, and I sat back on the newly raised slate to enjoy the ongoing show, Kristen dominating my wife spread eagled on the ground, two fingers rapidly pumping her passage, her tongue busy on my wife’s button, her buns in the air.
My wife was fluttering up against a wall of orgasm like a moth trying to reach a ballroom chandelier, her face repeatedly purpling from autonomic cascades of pleasure, forgetting to breathe until forced by the exertion, then gasping deeply until getting pulled by ecstasy into the next cycle.
I knew she could hold onto her control, so I got under the sun-warmed water while Carlo drip-dried on a chaise longue, his erection back in full force, the women trading positions as the dom.
My eyes were full of water when Kristen peaked, but I felt her release through the bond as she hissed, “Yiiiisssssssssss…eee-ee-eee-iiiiiiiiiiiiiii-eee-ee!”
My wife soared over the escarpments of sensation, chanting, “Oh yeah, oyeah, oyeah, oyeyeyeyeyeeaaaaaggggghhh!”
And the massive sandstone monolith moved. Not fast, but steady as a surfacing submarine: ponderous, majestic, and powerful. Kristen competently planed the top off, and the massive thing slipped up under the first section of patio as gently as a mother’s caress on a baby’s butt.
I looked over at Carlo whose jaw hung slack with the beginnings of a bemused smile. “Well, that’s what we in the mage science biz call a datum.”
Once we’d congratulated the women on their work and shared a joyous group hug, I conceded that procreation didn’t have a thing to do with it.
“Yeah, I told you, it’s the passion,” my wife said, accepting my accolades. “Kristen turns me on, and I turn her on, and that’s the end of it. You and Carlo do nothing for each other, so you two just used each other as warm masturbation toys.”
It made sense in retrospect: ants and amoebae procreate, yet we’re pretty sure that only humans can do magic. I admitted, “The data speak. This is as good a working hypothesis as we’re likely to come up with until we can find some properly gay mages.”
Kaitlyn put my revived stiffy to good use there on the sand, making it an educational show for our students, building up a taut copious bubble of magic in record time, our efficiency improving, so that within a quarter hour we had enough power gathered to lift the rest of the sandstone foundation up under our students’ work areas.
“Yeeeeeaaaaggggh!” I cried at release.
“Oooweeee Daviiiieeeeeeee!!! Damadamadammmitt!”
We pulled it up with ease, our passion and love genuine, making the magic easy.
Here’s to science!
“All right, my students,” my wife panted from her supine position on the sand, “your turn. Give it a try together; use the magic to fully glass-seal the new patio additions.”
Kristen eagerly grabbed Carlo by the hand and led him out onto the warm sand.
They meshed far better than Carlo did with me, going so far as to invent a rather exotic sexual position requiring rapport coordination, a sort of sideways cowgirl with Kristen on top, a calf under Carlo’s thigh, her other shin on his belly pushing down on his diaphragm in time with his pants and moans, herself moving along his cock in a circular sort of motion reminiscent of an oil pump: up, around, down, and out. In a sense, Kristen was breathing for Carlo, controlling his diaphragm to move the air in and out in a way that balanced their combined needs; uncoordinated muggles would have gotten the timing mixed up for sure, leaving the guy on bottom red-faced, but our shishyas pulled it off beautifully.
The new couple cycled again and again in a perfectly coordinated rhythm until they climaxed together, sealing the patio in one quick sweep upon their combined orgasm.
Then to my considerable surprise, they did one last thing with their magic that session: in a corner of the newly slate-bound massage area, a pinkish quartz crystal the size of a soccer ball surfaced like a breaching whale!
Through his post-orgasmic pants, Carlo informed us, “It’s called Billy,” then fell into endorphin-fueled giggles with Kristen, the pair explaining in unison, “Billy the Crystal!” after regaining their breath, the joy of it sending them off in a rolling embrace over the sand.
It made a guy proud to be a guru.
Carlo was effusive with thanks as we ate our Sunday lunch, his and Kristen’s imminent leave-taking on his mind. “This week, you not only fulfilled some of my long-held nudist fantasies, you became my close friends. You facilitated my first threesome, revealed my magical talents, began my education as a mage, healed a congenital disease I expected to die young of, and introduced me to a wonderful woman! You’ve literally turned my life around! I went into this thinking it was just going to be an amusing little vacation, trading a bit of work for tourist guide services, but now I wonder how I can possibly repay you two? I mean, seriously!”
Kaitlyn had a ready answer. “Help us do the work the planet needs, Carlo. Help Kristen.”
His hand went across the corner of the dining table to hers, and they fell into each others’ eyes. “I will,” he said simply.
“Me, too,” Kristen agreed.
I suspected they’d just agreed to much more than my wife had asked of them.
That guess became certainty while I was passing by the living room window after Carlo and Kristen closed the front door behind them, luggage in hand. Those two were still standing out in our new gravel parking area near Kristen’s car trunk, hand in hand, speaking privately.
Carlo was bare, having announced his intention to drive that way at least as far as Wellington. Kristen was barefoot, attired only the magewear we’d gifted her. We’d given them two sets each from our stock, re-tailoring them to fit last night during the movie.
“Kaitlyn?” I called. “C’mere.” I directed her attention to the scene in the parking lot they’d helped us with. “I think we might’ve created another couple.”
My wife just slipped under my arm and began humming the melody of Mark Knopfler’s “Storybook Love” from last night’s film soundtrack, her eyes tearing up.
Okay, mine, too, if I’m being honest.