Lady Spades (vignette) (Patreon)

*** work in progress! ***

“Finley...have you lost your goddamn mind?”  Colt crossed his arms and leaned against the bathroom door, the towering wall of muscle filling the frame as he watched his friend set up a small altar on the counter.  “You’re starting to freak me out, bud.”  

Finley shrugged at the larger man.  “You don’t have to believe me, I just need another person to be here.  It says I need a witness, whatever that means.”  The lean brunette went back to arranging his candles, his sharp features set in a mask of surprising determination considering the circumstances.  

“Listen, if this was still fifteen-year-old Colt and Finley, I’d be all in.  You know that.  But, uh, don’t you think twenty four’s a little old for this kinda shit?”  Colt reached out and swallowed Finley’s shoulder in a meaty grip, fixing the shirtless man with a sympathetic smile.  “I know you’re still upset about Heather, but you’ve gotta move on, man.”  

Finley pulled out of Colt’s grip, his deceptively thin arm flexing as he tore it away.  He wasn’t as built as his shaggy-haired friend, but his athletic frame was still covered in solid, sculpted muscle.  His shoulders were broad, his waist tapered, and he sported a ripped six-pack, all of which were covered in a wiry dusting of chestnut hair that was just enough to accentuate his masculine features without being excessive.  Coupled with his razor cheekbones, prominent nose, and brooding eyes, the handsome jock could have easily found a replacement for his ex-girlfriend, but his wounded pride wouldn’t let him move on.  “I gotta get her back,” Finley said, shaking his buzzed head and staring at himself in the mirror.  

Colt sighed and stepped behind his friend, his broad frame sticking out around Finley’s reflection.  He was every bit as sculpted as the smaller man, but stood a few inches taller at six-foot-three and had considerably more bulk, looking like a Ken doll come to life.  His shoulders were bowling balls, his pecs a prominent shelf above his trim waist, and he had arms the size of Finley’s thighs, while his own powerful legs were meaty tree trunks that supported his plump, ample rear.  His perpetually tanned skin was naturally smooth, and if he’d shared his friend’s wolfish features he would have looked intimidating, but instead Colt had a charming, all-american face, complete with a lantern jaw, easy smile, and a messy mop of sandy blonde hair.  “Dude,” Colt said, this time putting both hands on Finley’s shoulders and giving them a gentle massage.  “How many times do I have to tell you this?  You.  Cheated.  On.  Her.  Not the other way around.”  The burly jock gave his friend’s shoulders a squeeze, cutting off the interruption he knew was coming.  “Bro, I’m not judging you.  You got drunk and made a mistake...it happens.  But you can’t blame her for deciding to leave.”  

Finley sighed and leaned against the other man, his bare back brushing against Colt’s loose tank-top.  With anyone else such contact would have been awkward, but he’d been friends with the strapping hunk since elementary school.  As they grew older they did everything together, until they were as intimately familiar with each other as they were with themselves.  They played on the same teams, shared beds and showers, jerked off while watching porn, fucked girls in the same room as each other, and now lived together.  From the outside it may have looked odd for him to be wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and getting a shoulder rub from his Adonis of a friend, but to them it was perfectly natural.  “It’s not fair!  I’m not just some piece of shit.  So I fucked someone else...it’s not like it meant anything.  Why can’t she see that?”  

Colt laughed and let go of Finley’s shoulders so he could put the other man in a headlock instead, giving his friend’s buzzed scalp a rough noogie.  “And to prove you’re not a piece of shit you’re going to invoke supernatural powers to make her do something against her will?  This is your plan?”  

Finley grunted and squirmed free, punching Colt in his thick upper arm.  “You don’t have to say it like that.  She loves me.  I’m not making her do anything she doesn’t already want to, whether she knows it or not.”  

“Wow,” Colt said, rolling his eyes.  “Now I’m judging a little.”  

“Judge all you want.  I just need you to stand here while you do it.”  The shirtless jock finished arranging the candles in a small triangle under the mirror.  He checked his phone to make sure that it was almost midnight before he began lighting them in slow succession, motioning for Colt to shut the door and turn the light off.

“How is this supposed to work again?”  Colt asked as they were plunged into darkness.  The small candles cast deep, flickering shadows that made it seem as if the small room was in constant motion.  He didn’t really think anything would happen, but that didn’t stop a slight shiver from running through him.  

“All you have to do is stand there.  I’m going to write her name on the mirror, and then when I tell you, just repeat after me.  I’ll do the rest.”  Finley picked up a tube of lipstick and held it out to the mirror.  “Ready?”  

“Dude, that is going to be a bitch to clean off,” Colt said as his friend started writing.  “Wait...whose name is that?  I thought you were writing Heather’s?”  

“What part of ‘just stand there’ didn’t make sense?  We’re not calling Heather, we’re calling the Lady,” he said, holding up the Queen of Spades playing card.  “We close our eyes, I hold out the card, we both call her to show up, and if everything goes right she’ll show up and grant a wish to the person holding the card.”  

Colt raised an eyebrow as he watched the shadows dance across his friend’s face, Finley’s sharp features looking sinister in the dim light.  “And if it doesn’t go right?” 

“How simple can it be?  We light some candles, write on a mirror, and say a lady’s name.  It’s not hard.  Now shut the fuck up and close your eyes.”  Finley turned back to the mirror, scrawling out “Lady Spades” in big, chunky letters.  He grabbed the playing card from the counter and held it out in front of him, the Queen facing the mirror.  “Ready? Close your eyes...dude, I mean it, close ‘em...okay...we need to say this next part seven times,” Finley paused, waiting for Colt to fully close his eyes.  “Lady Spades appear,” they chanted in unison.  

There was a long silence.  The two could hear their pulse pounding in their ears and the quiet sound of their breath as they stood and waited, the minutes dragging on in the dark.  After an indeterminate period of absolutely nothing happening other than his embarrassment reaching epic proportions, Colt opened his mouth to break the silence when the flickering light against his eyelids suddenly went still.  The flames froze in place, a sultry, velvet laughter filling the room.  Their eyes shot open at the sound, in time to watch the figure on the card begin to move in the mirror.  The Queen blinked her jet black eyes, looking at the young men from her small window of the playing card as a pair of black hands appeared at the edges.  Finley yelped and let go of the card, but it remained floating in place as the Queen in the mirror pulled herself free, growing to human size in the process.  

Her skin was an alabaster porcelain, her face a gorgeous mask save for the inky pits where her eyes should have been.  Her raven hair was long and flowing, her features soft, with plump, black lips and a button nose. She wore an ornate, obsidian crown and a flowing dress that, from what they could see in the window that was the mirror, seemed to be made of the same glassy material.  The laughter died away as she tilted her head every so slightly, a slender hand reaching up to press against the mirror from the other side.  

Colt wanted to run, but he was too stunned to do anything other than stare.  He nudged Finley with his foot, his wide eyes glued to the now-blank card hovering above the counter.  “Uh...ri...right,” Finley stammered, clearing his throat to try and keep his voice from shaking.  “La...Lady Spades, I wish that Heather and I would be back together again.  I know she still loves me, she just…” 

The shirtless jock was cut off when the Queen clutched her fingers, her black nails screeching against the far side of the glass as her other hand slammed up next to it.  The candles flared, the light reflecting off a pale face that was being lined by ebony cracks, as if it truly was made of porcelain.  The velvet laughter turned into a shrill cackle as her lips parted, eventually becoming a deafening shriek that extinguished the flames.  

Finley’s heart raced as he stood frozen in place.  The queen’s shrieking laughter echoed in his head, leaving him dizzy and disoriented as he tried to figure out what happened.  He’d followed the instructions to the letter.  Like Colt, there was a large part of himself that didn’t think anything would happen at all, but something had actually shown up in response to their call.  And it wasn’t just him who’d experienced it.  They’d both seen her in the mirror, and the card floating in midair.  They’d both heard the laughter.  But something had clearly gone wrong, and Finley had a sinking feeling that he knew why.  

“Fuck!” he yelped, jumping and wincing at the brightness when Colt abruptly turned the light on.  

“What are you doing in here?” Colt asked, looking the shirtless man up and down with a raised eyebrow.  “And what are you wearing?”  

“What do you mean?  We were just trying to…” Finley’s stomach dropped when he saw the now-empty counter.  The mirror was free from any lipstick, and there wasn’t a single trace of the candles or the playing card.  He looked down at himself, still clad in his gym shorts, and back up at Colt, unable to read his friend’s expression.  “You really don’t remember?  The candles?  The terrifying woman that was just in the mirror?  None of that’s ringing a bell?  You were standing right there the whole time!”  

Colt shook his head.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  I just walked in here and found you standing in the dark, entirely overdressed.  I don’t…” he trailed off, grinning.  “Ohhhh...did I ruin the surprise?  Were you getting dressed so you could take it off for me?”  

“I…” Finley didn’t know how to respond.  He didn’t understand why Colt was surprised at his outfit, but he was more concerned with the way his stomach fluttered just looking at his friend.  He knew from an objective standpoint just how handsome the other man was, but he’d never truly felt it before.  Now, the sight of Colt’s burly frame and the sound of the other man’s deep voice hit him like a punch in the gut.  

“That’s alright, it doesn’t have to be a surprise to be fun.”  Finley gasped when Colt reached out and grabbed the front of both his shorts and boxers by the waist, pulling them open as he was tugged along behind the other man.  The sensation of his friend’s rough fingers brushing just above the base of his confusingly twitching cock sent darts of pleasure through the shirtless young man as he stumbled down the hall to their small living room.  Finley was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening as Colt pushed the coffee table out of the way, turned on some music, and dropped to the couch, his meaty thighs spread and his heavy arms draped on the back.  “Okay, stud, let’s see it,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.  

Finley’s heart was on rapidfire in his chest as he felt his trim hips begin to sway.  He screamed at himself in vain, his impulse to stop massively outweighed by a sudden need to do whatever Colt told him.  He was mortified as he ran his hands slowly up and down through the trail of hair on his abs, and across his solid pecs, before flexing his arms behind his head.  The whole time his hips were on a gyroscope, swiveling him closer and closer to Colt and causing his rapidly hardening cock to bounce noticeably against his shorts.  He stopped just out of arm’s reach, grabbing the waist of his shorts and stretching it wide as he inched each side down in time with his rolling hips.  The loose, plaid boxers underneath were tented by the thick, aching rod that wagged and bounced wildly as he gyrated, but one look at Colt’s smug, eager expression was all it took to drive him on.  He licked his lips as he watched one of his friend’s arms drift down from the back of the couch to begin kneading the growing lump in his own loose shorts while he watched Finley strut and shake.  

It was all making horrible sense.  The stripping jock hadn’t been entirely honest in his wish, and now he was paying the price.  Not wanting to take his eyes off Colt, he gazed seductively over a shoulder as he turned and slowly slipped the back of his boxers down over his perky bubble.  He gave the solid little cheeks a shake, still unable to stop himself from pushing the front down and letting his long, thick cock spring free.  Finley knew it was a sight that Colt had seen many times before, but never quite like this.  He wasn’t embarrassed at his friend seeing him naked and hard; he was embarrassed by how much he wanted to see the other man in a similar state.  He grinned bashfully as he stepped close to the couch, nearly trembling with anticipation.  

“The boxers were a nice touch,” Colt said, eliciting a gasp when he reached out and grabbed Finley’s throbbing pole.  “I don’t know what you were going to do with the mirror or whatever it was you were talking about in the bathroom, but this wasn’t bad.”  

The lean stud whimpered, the feeling of Colt’s calloused hand around his cock making his knees weak.  Though they’d seen each other hard and had jerked off together in the past, they’d never actually touched each other’s equipment.  Finley never imagined that it could feel so good.  “Did...did I do good,” he stammered, surprising himself with the insecure question.  The experienced hunk was normally brimming with confidence when his clothes were off, but in front of Colt’s hungry eyes he felt like a nervous teenager.  

“What do you think,” Colt laughed, nodding down at his tented shorts.  “Now you just have to finish the job.”  Finley was on his knees in a flash, his shaking hands clawing at Colt’s shorts.  He was humiliated by his friend’s condescending laughter as the other man lifted himself up enough for his shorts and boxer briefs to be pulled free, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his lips around the thick beast that shot free.  “Whooooooo...you...you sure know your way around my dick,” the brawny stud groaned, holding Finley’s head in place.  

The kneeling jock didn’t understand how he could possibly know his way around something he’d never touched, let alone had in his mouth, but he couldn’t deny how familiar it all felt.  The musky scent, the salty taste, the feeling of Colt’s hands on his head and strong thighs swallowing his face; it all felt horrifyingly natural, and Finley didn’t know if he was excited or terrified by what was coming.  

“O...okay...enough playing around,” Colt grunted, peeling out of his tank-top.  He leaned forward, his chest and shoulders inflating with muscle as he grabbed Finley and manhandled his friend up off the floor.  With a quick shove he spun the other man around before pulling him roughly down onto his lap, his fat cock slipping easily inside.  

“HHHHOOOOOHHHHHHHUUhhhh!”  Finley let out a cracking, siren wail as Colt wrapped his arms around him, holding him on his lap while the hulking jock pumped and bucked his hips.  It was several moments before the impaled jock realized he was screaming out of ecstasy, not pain, his humiliation growing when the realization did nothing to lessen his cries.  If anything, the awareness of his bliss only made him howl louder, his desperate whimpers bouncing off the walls while Colt pumped away on his oozing member.  The dual sensation of having his dick worked while another dick worked his insides was too much to handle.  Finley leaned back against the other man’s broad frame, helpless to do anything other than grunt and writhe until Colt finally exploded, filling his insides long after his own overloaded organ had erupted.