Wizards Apprentice 4 the Vale in WinterChapter 16
- 1 year ago
- 5
- 0
Wizards In Bed free porn video
Chelsea parked her car and rushed toward the Convention Center entrance. The team was supposed to meet-up at 10:00 and she was late. She jogged across the giant parking lot in her stacked heeled oxfords, more than a little self-conscious as her short skirt flew up and her boobs bounced with every step. She found her crew at the appointed spot.
They could see her coming from way down the hall and waved with excitement. As she got close, Ahmed, Dave, and Jackson broke out in shit-eating grins. Sheila, ever the socially awkward emo, didn’t bother to say “Hello” but instead began with, “Chelsea, what the fuck are you wearing?”
“What do you mean? I’m Hermione,” Chelsea protested.
“Um… Hermione the stripper, maybe,” Sheila said as the boys burst out laughing.
Chelsea was embarrassed. She didn’t want to do this stupid Comic-Con thing in the first place. The Team – a bunch of nerdy programmers who never crawled out to see the light of day – had convinced her it would be good for morale. As project manager, it was Chelsea’s job to keep the team happy and productive and so she supported it and foot the bill for tickets, even though it was not at all her kind of thing.
At some point, they’d decided to go as Harry Potter characters. Sheila was Snape, Ahmed was Dumbledore, Dave was Voldemort and Jackson was Harry himself. Chelsea had seen the first Harry Potter movie a long time ago and barely even knew who all the characters were. But anything for the Team.
“You look like a thick Emma Watson just the way you are,” Sheila had said, “You are an automatic Hermione.” Accordingly, Chelsea ordered a Hermione costume several weeks prior to the event. She’d waited until that very morning, however, to try it on.
“Um, I think you bought ‘Sexy Hermione’,” Dave said, unhelpfully, his tongue on the ground.
Chelsea realized that this is exactly what she had done. Where the actual character had a long black skirt and robe, Chelsea sported a black pleated mini-skirt, knee socks, and a robe that was more like a short cape. And where the fictitious Hermione had a blouse complete with tie and high V-neck sweater, the very real Chelsea had a tight blouse that did not button, layered under an even tighter sweater vest, which combined to deliver her tits onto a fantastical shelf for all the other wizards to share. The long brown curly hair… Well, that was the same. In fact, it was her own.
“Look, it’s not like you’re the only one. There are more than a few other tarts here today, just look around,” Ahmed said, trying to reassure Chelsea, though it was hard to take him seriously given that he was speaking in a fake British accent.
“Yeah, um, thanks, Dumbledore,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes in sarcasm, “I feel loads better.”
“What the fuck, Chels’? Just make the best of it. We’re finally out of the office. Don’t mess with our vibe,” Sheila chided. Chelsea agreed she would press on as the guys wagged their heads vigorously and wantonly in encouragement.
They wandered the vast space as a group, trying out video games, bagging some free merch’, getting autographs, watching presentations from people Chelsea had never heard of, and in general checking out the scene. Chelsea had never seen so many horny nerds together in one place before. She got more than her share of desirous looks, given that her outfit choice seemed to imply that was exactly what she was looking for.
Since the Team was into all things JK Rowling, the team spent a good share of their time in the Harry Potter venue. In a sea of nearly identical characters, Chelsea -- and her tits and thighs -- stood out. There were a couple of especially testosterone-infused boys – one a Harry and the other a Draco Malfoy – that couldn’t seem to take their eyes off her.
She gave them a fuck off stare, but her protruding tits sent a contrary message, and they continued to follow her around, whispering and giggling more like schoolgirls than schoolboys. If they weren’t apparently a couple of hot running teenagers, she would have found it creepy or even frightening. Instead, she just found it childish and rude.
They wandered over to the Avengers area, and Chelsea was ever so slightly comforted that the “slut” costume quotient was higher among this crowd, even with some of the men. Their Potter gang was the exception amidst all the Iron Men, Thors, Black Widows, and such, until, who should Chelsea spy again but the horndog Harry and Draco duo. Had they followed her in there? As she dreaded, they eventually approached her and complimented her on her outfit.
Chelsea took the two in briefly, surmising from the smooth skin on their faces that they probably hadn’t even had their first shave. “Yeah, thanks, boys. Enjoy beating off, later. I hope you have a good time,” she told them. She said it with a smile. They were just kids, so she chose to put them in their place without being a complete shrew about it.
After a couple hours, she bought the Team lunch and then made an excuse to get the heck out of there.
She headed toward her car, miffed at how she’d killed most of a rare day off doing something she didn’t want to do and along the way had managed to embarrass herself in front of her team. This debacle would take a while to live down.
It was only 2:30 in the afternoon, but when she saw a bar on the fringe of the Convention Center, she decided a stiff drink was in order. She wrapped the miniature robe as tightly around her as it would go and went in to grab a cold martini. The place was packed but the hostess gave her a wink, either because she took pity on Chelsea’s outfit or because she thought a Hermione tart would attract even more customers.
For whatever reason, the hostess found Chelsea a rare seat at the window bar. She could sit there and watch the nut jobs on the sidewalk, avoid eye contact, and sip her drink in relative peace. A Spiderman, and soon after, a pudgy Superman, asked if she wanted company. Each time she gave them the “I’m waiting for my friend” blow-off line and they withered easily. Chelsea was just beginning to relax when she was tapped on the shoulder, yet again.
She turned with irritation to see the two horn-dog teenagers standing there with broad smiles. She realized the time for any mixed signals or politeness was over.
“So how did you boys manage to get in here? You must have some pretty awesome fake IDs. I should out you to the hostess,” she said sternly. Before they could respond, she added, “But you know what, I’ll make you a deal: I’ll mind my own business if you mind yours. I’m waiting for my boyfriend and I don’t need him coming in here to find a couple of hot and bothered teenage boys breathing on me. So, why don’t you find someone else too old for you and leave me alone?”
Draco looked at Harry and laughed out loud.
“No, you’re not,” Draco said, looking at Chelsea, his steely blue eyes peering through the bangs of his short blonde wig.
“No, I’m not, what?” Chelsea asked, now thoroughly pissed-off. She stared back at Draco with as much ‘get the fuck away from me energy’ as she could muster. He stared back, unblinking. Chelsea took in his face amidst their little stand-off. His features were as fine as any male model’s and his lips were remarkably full. Go after someone your own age, Chelsea thought to herself. Surely some nerdy sixteen-year-old girl wants to hit that.
Finally, Draco spoke. “You’re not waiting for your boyfriend. You’re alone. And I think you could use a little company. You haven’t looked happy for at least a couple hours.” Chelsea wasn’t sure how to counter that. After all, he was right.
“And, not sure how to break it to you,” Harry piped in. The pitch of his voice made Chelsea wonder if he was even fifteen. “But we’re not teenage boys. I’m twenty-four and my friend here is twenty-one. Hell, we’re not even boys.”
Chelsea processed this slowly as she took in Harry. His wig was pretty awful. It didn’t seem to fit him at all, like he had a man bun or something underneath it. Like Draco, he was rather short, and he seemed a little plump, or at least barrel-chested. He had pale blue eyes, and a delicate freckled nose hid behind his horned rimmed Harry Potter glasses. Chelsea’s face betrayed that she was not exactly following.
“Hmmm. Let me put it this way,” Harry continued. “I’m probably as excited to get home and take off this outfit as you are.” Chelsea gave him a disgusted smirk. But Harry quickly added, “This ace bandage around my chest is absolutely killing my tits.”
His… Er, her… Words spun in Chelsea’s head for a half-second as she took a large sip of her drink. Which, once those words sank home, she promptly spat all over the bar.
“Whoops,” Draco said, “I do love a good spit-take. Let’s get you another one of those,” and ‘he’ waved over a server.
Her guard now down, Chelsea accepted their offer. In fact, she accepted their offer three more times. She learned that ‘Draco’ was, in fact, Linda. And that ‘Harry’ was actually, Janet. They proved to be interesting to talk to and quite funny, and somehow, in their boy outfits, confusingly alluring. After three and a half cocktails, and nothing but a little calamari and breadsticks to soak it up, they were all pretty wasted.
“Hey, we live in an apartment just a few blocks from here,” Linda offered, “You want to come back to our place, get some coffee and sober up before you drive home?”
Chelsea accepted. As the trio walked arm in arm, Chelsea half wondered if maybe Linda and Janet were a couple, but she was having enough fun, and had enough booze in her, that she didn’t overthink it. Their place was a small efficiency on the third floor of an older building. They’d done a nice job with the art and furnishings and the place had good light. It also had only one bed, confirming Chelsea’s suspicion that they were a pair. Chelsea was no prude. She had lesbian friends. She’d even kissed a girl a time or two.
Chelsea sat on a small love seat. Other than dining chairs and the queen-sized bed it was her only option.
“Yeah, sooo… Turns out we’re out of coffee,” Linda, still in her Draco outfit, declared. “We do have Red Bull.”
“Ick,” was Chelsea’s involuntary response.
“Yep, I don’t disagree. But if you mix it with vodka it’s almost palatable,” Linda laughed. Chelsea laughed along, and with a resigned wave of her hand indicated she was okay with the disgusting cocktail.
Meanwhile, Janet was peeling off her Harry costume with a dancer’s embellishment. She whipped off her wig and shook out a mane of wavy shoulder-length red hair. Without inhibition, she dropped her black slacks, revealing a cute pair of black boy shorts, and then tore at her sweater, shirt, and tie until she was down to three or four winds of beige Ace bandage around her chest. By this time, Chelsea had a tumbler of pink liquid in her hand, which she sipped as she enjoyed the show.
“Oh, my fucking god, get this off of me!” Janet exclaimed with melodramatic urgency. Linda unsecured the exposed tag end of the bandage and pulled while Janet spun like a ballerina until her cute set of bouncy c-cup tits sprang free. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to air these things out for a bit,” Janet said as she groped her own boobs as if encouraging blood to return to them. Now just in striped knee socks and tiny boy shorts she strode toward Linda in their small kitchen. “You got one of those for me?” she asked. Linda handed Janet her own Red Bull potion before grabbing some clothes and heading into the bathroom.
“She’s the shy one,” Janet said with a smile to Chelsea as she took a swig of her drink. That Janet showed no signs of putting on any clothes peaked a bit of nervousness in Chelsea, but that eased with every sip of her Kool-Aid-from-hell beverage. Linda emerged in blue jean cut-offs and a plain white T-shirt.
“Oh, man, that does feel better,” she said in her smoky voice. Linda was barefoot and Chelsea found herself admiring the muscled tone and smooth tan skin of her long legs, the way her bubble-butt filled out her shorts, and the shape of her small firm tits and nips under her tight shirt. It was the body of a runner and a contrast to her own, fuller shape, and she was somewhat envious. Chelsea also realized that the Draco blonde wig was not a wig at all. The stylish blonde boy cut was Linda’s own hair.
“Oh, for fuck sake, you slut,” Linda chastised Janet, “put a goddam shirt on!” Janet winked with joking provocation at Chelsea, but did as Linda asked and pulled a spaghetti strapped black camisole from their dresser.
Chelsea was quite loopy at this point. Her tumbler was empty. The front of her brain was telling her she should call herself an Uber. The back of her brain was telling her that being day drunk felt pretty good right now, and her heart shouted that hanging with these fun girls sure as shit beat going back to her own empty apartment. If you go back there, you’ll just take a nap and then heat up a can of Spaghetti O’s and talk to your cat, she thought to herself.
“Well, gosh, I guess I should join the party,” Chelsea announced. She stood, kicked off her shoes, and tugged the tight vest and cheap costume blouse over her head. She was left in a white demi-bra and her mini-skirt and knee socks. “That does feel better,” she said, taking a sip from her glass that someone had deftly refilled when she wasn’t looking. Janet and Linda exchanged a quick glance which Chelsea chose to ignore.
The girls talked about what they had seen at Comic-Con and were in stitches laughing as Chelsea recounted her embarrassing “Stripper Hermione,” story. Linda put on some music and Janet broke out a vape pen. The THC added to the happy swirl, and soon the trio was dancing and hugging and laughing with little provocation.
Through her haze, Chelsea realized she was finding both girls very attractive. And of course, they were. But the chemical combination of alcohol, caffeine, and THC, was also making her horny as hell. If she had been home at that moment, she would have rubbed one out on her teddy bear. At some point, Linda and Janet began to kiss. Chelsea felt the urge to jump in, but even more so felt like an unnecessary third wheel.
“Hey, you know, this has been sooo much fun, ladies, but I should probably get going,” Chelsea said, looking for where she tossed her absurd costume top.
“Hey, Chelsea… Um … you sure you don’t want to stay?” Janet asked, her arm around Linda.
“I really ought to get out of you guy’s way,” Chelsea answered, holding her top, but not putting it on.
Janet took Linda by the hand and led them both to their bed, where they knelt invitingly. Janet patted the space on the mattress between them. “You wouldn’t be in our way, at all,” Janet purred. “We’ve got plenty of room.”
Chelsea flushed with excitement that they’d asked her to stay, and then immediately felt a wave of apprehension of what she was getting into. Am I ready for this? The vodka and THC did not permit much cognitive evaluation. The tautness of her nipples and the buzz in her clit told Chelsea she’d figure it out.
She had an out-of-body experience as she heard herself say: “Um. I’m up for it if you guys are. But, you should know I haven’t gone all the way with a girl since the eleventh grade.”
“Get in here,” Janet ordered with a smile. Still not connected to her own physical self, Chelsea’s body joined the pretty couple as her mind hovered above the bed looking down at the beautiful troika.
Tops were off immediately as the three took turns kissing and sucking one another. Chelsea hadn’t had a woman’s nipple in her mouth in fifteen years, and the feeling was electric. Janet’s boobs were just a touch smaller than her own 36c’s, with large nipples that contracted into enticing hard nubs. Linda had cute A-cups with small, puffy nipples. The kissing alone was fantastic, as Chelsea enjoyed their smooth faces and pillow lips, compared to the hard, rough face of her on-again, (currently) off-again boyfriend.
Chelsea seemed in more of a hurry than either of her more experienced new friends, as she yanked her mini-skirt and panties off. Janet quickly followed, and Chelsea immediately cupped Janet’s soft, red-haired covered mons as she kissed her deeply. Having Janet’s tongue in her mouth, her hard nipples pressed into her own, and the wetness of Janet's smooth lips against her fingers set Chelsea’s heart to racing. Her head had long been spinning.
“God girl! I’m not sure I believe this ‘eleventh-grade bullshit!” Janet said breathlessly as she briefly broke their embrace.
“Hch, hmmm,” Linda cleared her throat.
“Oh, baby, are we leaving you out?” Chelsea asked as she reached to hold Linda.
Linda held up her hands and stepped off the bed. She looked at Janet. Janet nodded.
“Chelsea,” Linda said, “There’s something you should probably see.”
“Yeah, OK,” Chelsea said, as her body screamed its impatient desire through every nerve.
Linda unbuttoned the fly of her faded, torn cut-offs. She tugged them open and out fell an adorable, semi-erect four-inch penis. Chelsea gasped in shock, and then felt bad and embarrassed that she had.
“Uh, huh. I have a dick,” Linda said. “Sorry to spring it on you. So to speak. But it seemed like now or never.”
“It’s the cutest, sexiest, prettiest clitty in the whole world,” Janet cooed as she crawled over to take the small glans in her hand.
Linda moaned and looked at Chelsea. “So, no pressure, but you OK playing with me? The way I am?”
Chelsea nodded and smiled. “I don’t know if J.K. Rowling would approve, but I do. Let’s go!”
“Thank god, I’m so hot for you two I’m going to explode,” Linda said with delight as she pushed her cut-offs to the floor and crawled back into bed with the girls.
Janet and Linda focused their attention on Chelsea. They treated her as a princess, introducing her to their world with pride and excitement. Sometimes they pleased Chelsea together, sometimes in a tag team. At one-point Chelsea had Linda’s tongue in her ass while Janet ate her pussy and she thought she’d never felt better in her life. Pot tended to make Chelsea cum more easily, and that was certainly the case on this afternoon. The dynamic duo brought Chelsea off three times in short order. She loved the feeling of their soft mouths on her trimmed pussy, and the feel of their soft skin and hands everywhere else.
Whatever hesitance Chelsea may have had was washed away by the combination of chemicals and endorphins surging through her body. She kissed both girls, tasting herself on their tongues. Linda pushed Chelsea toward Janet. “I think I’ll watch for a while. Let’s see how this pussy rookie does.”
Chelsea licked the length of Janet’s body, lingering in the areas that she liked others to linger… the under boob, the hip bones, the inner thighs, the nape of the neck, the back of the knees, and then focused her attention on Janet’s pussy.
She’s never eaten a girl before. Finger banging? Dry humping? Yep and yep. But actually, gone down? This was new. If it had been even an hour earlier she would have been nervous, but not now. She again did to Janet what she liked to be done to herself. Avoiding the clit, licking the outside edge of the labia, very lightly, then tonguing inside, but just the first half inch. She would move up at random to gently tease around the clit but avoided the clit itself.
“Oh Jesus, this girl is good, Linda!” Janet moaned in delight.
As Janet’s moans and undulations increased, Chelsea finally licked Janet’s clit directly, alternating light circles with the tip and firm full licks with her fully flattened tongue. When Janet arched and twisted, Chelsea knew she had her, and she combined fast licks and gentle sucks until Janet pulled Chelsea’s head hard into her mound.
“Urrrgggh!” Janet screamed and then pushed Chelsea away. “Damn, Hermione, you can eat me anytime,” Janet sighed as all three girls laughed.
Proud of herself, Chelsea turned to her next challenge. She kissed Linda, her mouth still wet with Janet’s juice. She started the same kind of slow routine she had performed with Janet, but was so distracted and turned on by Linda’s “clit” that she quickly focused there. Linda was waxed smooth everywhere, and her small semi-rigid penis and small balls somehow did not seem “male” at all. At first, Chelsea approached it as she would a man’s cock, but then adjusted, licking and gently sucking the appendages as if they were pussy.
Linda suddenly pushed Chelsea away. “Oh Sweety, Janet’s right. You are a sexy dream,” she said looking over at Janet who was leaning against the headboard, lightly stroking herself. “Um… I think our girl here is ‘shot-worthy,’ what do you say?”
“Fuck yeah. Shot and pill worthy,” Janet said, laughing. Chelsea had no idea what they were talking about.
Linda disappeared into the bathroom as Janet fired up her vape pen. Janet and Chelsea had another couple tokes a piece and then cuddled and necked. At some point, Chelsea sensed that Linda had returned. She was standing at the foot of the bed, watching the girls go at it, stroking her “clit.” But instead of a thin, floppy four inches, she was sporting a rigid, thick-veined, fat six inches.
“Amazing what a little testosterone and Viagra can do for a girl, am I right?” Linda said, looking at Janet and Chelsea with hot intensity. The girls crawled over and began to service Linda’s now giant clit. As Janet licked at the swollen ball sac, Chelsea performed porn star level fellatio, throating the thick member between teasing licks, coaxing a steady stream of pre-cum and moans from Linda.
Linda loved being a girl, but these rare testosterone shots connected her to the maleness of her body in a way which was hugely erotic. The testosterone spiked the dominant side of her libido, and the feeling of being fully engorged was pleasurable in and of itself. Janet had always been more bi than gay, and having her girlfriend turn into a wild fuck machine every now and then was exhilarating.
“Fuck, this girl can suck!” Chelsea said, fire in her eyes.
“It’s not really fair! I bet she gets a lot more practice with hard cocks than I do,” Janet said in frustration as she struggled to get Linda’s dick deep in her mouth.
“Sorry. Chelsea wins the prize. Which means I’m going to fuck her first,” Linda declared.
“Oh, fine! She’s the guest anyway,” Janet said with feigned jealousy.
“Rollover, Sweety,” Linda instructed Chelsea. “Yeah, now get on all fours. You guys have been having all the fun. I need to bang one out.”
The gentle, considerate Linda was gone. As she entered Chelsea’s wet pussy in one thrust she also swatted her round ass, hard, three or four times.
“Ah shit, that feels good,” Linda moaned as she gave Chelsea a long, steady pounding.
“Ugh, Ugh, Ugh,” Chelsea grunted every time Linda’s thick cock and swollen balls hit home.
Janet, feeling left out, and maybe a little resentful, lay prone in front of Chelsea.
“Mmm… Good idea, my love,” Linda said. “Chels’, why don’t you show Janet some attention while I fuck the shit out of you.”
Chelsea commenced eating Janet from behind. As Janet provocatively raised her ass, arched her back, and spread her legs to a near split, it was evidently clear what she wanted. Chelsea had never rimmed anyone before, guy or girl, but in that moment it felt sexy as hell. She buried her face in Janet’s backside, licking at the wispy red down that surrounded her pink round hole, as Linda slammed her from behind.
In a few short minutes, Chelsea could no longer concentrate on Janet’s bunghole as the hard fucking she was getting from Linda brought her to another rolling wave of contractions. That tripped Linda, who pulled out and shot two or three dollops of cum into the crack of Chelsea’s spread ass.
They all collapsed, breathless, in a pile of pretty flesh. As they gently stroked one another, Chelsea realized Linda was still hard as a rock.
“What the hell?” Chelsea asked in astonishment.
Janet laughed. “Yeah, you and I have a long afternoon ahead of us. You know that ‘erection lasting longer than four hours thing’?”
“That's right,” Linda chimed in. “I have not yet begun to fuck!” she proclaimed, her fist raised in the air like a horny trans John Paul Jones.
“In fact, Sweety,” Linda said, “Why don’t you fetch the strap-on? I think Chelsea has a DP in her very near future.”
Liesl
- 04.10.2020
- 17
- 0
- Category:
- Trans
Wizards Apprentice 4 the Vale in WinterChapter 8
- 2 years ago
- 14
- 0
Wizards Apprentice 4 the Vale in WinterChapter 5
- 2 years ago
- 5
- 0
