The Aether Candle

"Again," one of his classmates suggested.

Or maybe his subconscious was speaking directly to him. Who the fuck knew. Or cared.

Either way, Dan wasted no time delivering a second blow. Her right cheek shook after his palm made contact, a shock wave rippling quickly across her ass and hips before dying out a split second later. The sight left Dan positively enchanted. His teacher yelped, but when she looked back at Dan, the look in her eyes was pure, unadulterated lust.

He wanted to say that was the only reason he'd enjoyed spanking her. That he wouldn't derive pleasure from the act if she hadn't been into it. But Dan knew that wasn't true. Ms. Conklin had terrified him all throughout freshman year. Half of Lakeland High was afraid of her. She'd never given him detention, but she'd written some harsh things on his homework and tests. Said some biting things to him in class as well.

Moving slowly and sensually, Ms. Conklin slid her skirt down past her hips. Then she simply let it fall to the floor, revealing very shapely legs. "That's better, isn't it?"

Dan didn't bother answering. Just set to work on her backside. This time, he was not going for laughs either. He was determined to make his teacher cum, and cum hard. His hands glided smoothly over her skin, a soft and silky caress. Meanwhile, his mouth worked her surprisingly sensitive flesh. Eventually, Dan's teeth joined the party as well. He didn't bite hard, but he made sure she knew just how appetizing her found her ripe bottom.

Dan noticed a musky scent between her legs, and a damp spot in her panties. One hand abandoned her sweet ass and moved between her legs to rub below her mound. Then he started to lick at her through the fabric of her underwear. When this drew various sounds of encouragement, he pulled her panties aside and licked tentatively at the bottom of her vulva before moving up to swirl the tip of his tongue around her anus.

The smooth, puckered flesh was dark pink, though it wouldn't have stopped him at that point even if it had been brown. Dan continued rubbing her clit through her panties as he performed full-on analingus. That was nothing he'd done before, and it probably should have struck him as far too kinky, but he was so caught up in the moment that he just went with it. Ms. Conklin didn't seem to have a problem with it, either. She was pushing back against him, trying to get him to lick harder, deeper, faster.

Just as he sensed that she was about to explode, Dan pulled back. That elicited a most gratifying groan of protest. "I think you need more than my tongue," he told the woman who'd taught him how to find the slope of a line. "Do you want my dick, Dick?"

For a few heart-stopping seconds, Ms. Conklin didn't reply. At last, she said, "Yes."

Their audience began to murmur and whisper. Or had been doing so all along? Dan wasn't sure. Either way, their words were as indecipherable as their faces were inchoate, but that was still enough to excite his inner exhibitionist. Which apparently existed.

Dan stood up and fished his cock out. His classmates gasped and giggled at the size of it. A few guys swore. For his part, Dan was both surprised and yet not. Which didn't even confuse him, because he'd apparently flipped whatever switch controlled his power of disbelief. He was vaguely aware that none of it made any damn sense, but just didn't care.

He was huge, though. Long, and thick. Not unlike a soda can. His cock wasn't the only part that had been upgraded, either. Dan took his shirt off and found a perfect set of washboard abs. He was plenty lean ordinarily, but his muscles weren't that developed.

"Is this another form of punishment?" Ms. Conklin asked. "Of getting back at me for being so strict?" She gave her hips a good wiggle. "Or are you going to fuck me?"

Dan grabbed her by the hips once more. She placed her hands atop his, though, and guided them up under her sweater, to the cups of her bra. Then, in accordance with dream logic, the garment changed from a pullover to a cardigan whose buttons were undone. Her bra disappeared as well. Not that it mattered how he'd gotten her girls free—only that they were in his hands, where he'd wanted them for so long. They had just the right feel, too. They were firm enough to retain their shape without defying gravity too flagrantly or making one think of silicone. Her over-sized nipples were really hard, too. And sensitive. She purred when he rolled them between his fingers. For a moment, Dan thought he'd already entered her. But no, that wasn't his dick pushing her toward climax—just his fingers tweaking her stiff little ladies. She didn't complain about the delay, though, despite how eager she'd been only a moment ago. Apparently, a little nipple play was going to be enough.

Or would have been, if Dan hadn't decided to push as far into her as he could before friction brought him to a stop. Which was only about halfway, thanks to his massive size and how tight her canal was. That was enough, though. Ms. Conklin slapped her hands atop the stool, fell forward enough that he almost slipped back out, and howled in ecstasy. He might have thought she was faking if not for the spasms inside.

Dan wasn't nearly as big in real life, but neither was he small. So he knew what it felt like to be too big for intercourse. After several failed attempts, he and his first girlfriend had given up trying. The relationship hadn't lasted much longer.

This wasn't like that, though. It was a tight fit. A really tight fit. But he was going to get all of it inside her. He was sure of that.

"God, you're so big," Ms. Conklin said, reaching down to grab the base of his shaft. He wasn't sure if she was trying to tell him to give her a moment before resuming or coax him along. Either way, though, she clearly liked the size and feel of him. Her inner muscles had stopped spasming and were now massaging him fairly insistently.

The pleasure Dan took in this was nothing to be proud of. He knew that. Guys his age put way too much stock in the size of their members. If this were anything but a dream, he wouldn't get her off just by penetrating her. Something like three-quarters of women couldn't climax from intercourse alone. Only clitoral stimulation reliably got the job done. But knowing he shouldn't care so much about his member, or think that it had the power to please women all by itself, didn't keep him from confirming the stereotype.

"Mmmph," Ms. Conklin whimpered as he worked a few more inches in, slowly. Her throaty purr sent a thrill down Dan's spine. "I think I might cum again. Soon."

She wasn't kidding.

After her spasms died down, the tension went out of her back, and she mostly regained the ability to breathe, she said, "That was at least an eighty-seven. Maybe even eighty-nine."

"Not a ninety, though?" Dan asked.

"For that, you're going to have to stop holding back."

"Is that what I've been doing?" Dan asked as he delivered a sharp thrust.

"You tell me," Ms. Conklin said, sounding pleased with herself.

She might just have been egging him on. If anything he'd done up to that point had left much room for improvement, her body hadn't seemed to know the difference. But if she was just saying that for effect, it worked. Dan set a much faster pace this time. Soon, he was slamming into her furiously. He pawed at her tits, squeezing her nipples tight between his fingers and pulling them away from her breasts. Her poor ass suffered several hard slaps—each of which seemed to excite her more than the last. Through it all, her arousal grew and grew. Ms. Conklin worked her hips like the pistons of a race car engine, meeting Dan's thrusts with her own, and begged him to fuck her harder. At one point, Dan grabbed her hair, yanked back, and gave a sharp thrust with his hips at the same time. He angled them both as he did, so that his shaft would rub directly against her G-spot. It must have worked, because the resulting orgasm was of epic proportions. Her screams shattered glass.

Even that only earned him a ninety-four, however.

"Well, that's progress at least," Dan said. He spun his teacher around and sat on the stool himself while she took a moment to regain her balance. With the help of the blackboard beside her. Then guided her into his lap so she could ride him cowgirl. Which, more to the point, meant he could suck on those big tits and their stiff nipples while he fucked her.

"Oooooh, yeah," Ms. Conklin moaned a she descended, her womanhood slowly stretching to accommodate his size. After swallowing no more than half his length, she collapsed against him, shuddered, and very nearly climaxed. When Dan gave her ass a hard slap, then thrust upward, poking her in the cervix, she exploded.

They kissed, passionately. That shocked Dan, for some reason, though it didn't take long to get into it. She was so hungry for him. The feeling was mutual, he realized. Their bodies moved slowly, barely generating friction, as they attacked one another with their mouths.

By the time they were done, a long time later, Ms. Conklin finally gave him a hundred.

#

Dan woke up feeling great, which made no sense. He was not a morning person. Even on the weekends, when he actually got to sleep past seven, he'd roll out of bed feeling groggy. But from the moment he opened his eyes that morning, he was alert and energetic.

And horny as hell.

It wasn't just that he had a raging hard-on, though there was that. The Teen Titans poster on his wall was having an effect on him that it had never had before. Sure, Starfire and Raven were as hyper-sexualized as any other superheroine in the comics, but that post was from recent TV show, which had struck a goofier tone and favored a much simpler animation style. Starfire wasn't much more than a stick figure with long pinkish-purple hair and Raven was basically a bobble-head. Yet Dan found himself wondering what sort of orgies took place in that T-shaped tower, even fantasizing for a moment about having a threesome with them himself before shaking his head and muttering insults to himself.

That was when he noticed that the candle was still burning. Could it have something to do with how good he felt? No, that was absurd. Caleb could have given him a sugar pill and it would have had the same effect. Was the pool of melted wax about as big as he'd expect if the flame had been burning for ten minutes instead of ten hours? Maybe. But if so, that was only because Caleb had used some sort of hipster wax.

Dan blew the flame out and headed for the bathroom.

"You're looking chipper," his mom said when he came down the stairs. She leaned back against the kitchen counter and regarded him quizzically, her favorite coffee mug hugged tight against her chest. Against her very large breasts, in other words.

Her what now?

First cartoons and then his mom? What the fuck was wrong with him?

In his defense, those things were hard to ignore. His mom had put on some weight over the years, and most of it had gone to her chest. The few friends he'd ever had over the house had all commented on her ample endowment. That didn't make it okay for her own son to stare, but it had to be entered into evidence.

Besides, he wasn't exactly staring. Just noticing. There was a difference.

It didn't help that his mom was not only busty, but also really pretty for her age. Shit, for any age. She might not have the look magazines put on their covers, but Dan thought she was beautiful, and not just because he was her son. Yes, he was biased, but she was still easy on the eyes. That was pretty much an objective fact. Everyone loved her auburn hair, especially his late father, and it wasn't hard to see why. Then there was her fair complexion, her olive green eyes, and her full lips. Were her cheeks a little full and her chin a little soft? Perhaps. But not everyone went in for the skin and bones look, all hard angles that a guy might accidentally cut himself on if he caressed her the wrong way.

Okay, maybe he was staring at her. And maybe it wasn't the first time he'd done so either, even if it felt sort of like it because he'd never allowed the moment to last for more than a fraction of a second before. Never felt the need to ask himself why he was looking at his mom that way, whether he was genuinely attracted to her or just trying to figure out whether his friends made those comments purely to fuck with him. Still, it wasn't his fault. It was the damn candle, if only through the power of suggestion. Or, heck, perhaps it did have some power. Might that come with a lingering side-effect as a well? Could the stupid thing be the supernatural equivalent of Viagra? In case of an erection lasting more than—

No. There was no such thing as magic. If Dan was seeing his mom in a new light that was only because the subject of his dream had been a woman who was around the same age as her, maybe a few years older. His mental image of Ms. Conklin hadn't looked much past thirty, but just knowing that the inspiration for his XXX-rated dream was past fifty might have messed with his idea of an acceptable age range. That, and because the blender was just about the only thing he hadn't given at least some thought to sticking his cock in since walking into the kitchen some thirty seconds ago.

"That might be the quickest I've ever seen a broken heart mend," she continued. Suddenly, her expression changed, growing alarmed. "Don't tell me you got back together?"

"Haven't even spoken to her," Dan said.

He'd been too busy fucking his math teacher. Then fantasizing about cartoons, foodstuff, and various household appliances. Maybe even a certain parental unit. Jenny, though? She hadn't so much as entered Dan's thoughts until his mom had asked him about her.

Whether it was magical or not, the candle had done its job.

Too bad it couldn't pull that off without leaving him ready to fuck an apple pie.

"Good," she said with an emphatic nod. "I never liked her, anyway. She thought she was so smart, just because she got into some fancy private school."

His mom didn't specifically say that this bothered her because she didn't appreciate anyone talking down to her son, but Dan knew that was what she meant. After all, his mom had a degree from a pretty good school herself. That was where she'd met his dad. And it was why she found it so hard to accept that Dan had no interest in going to college. From his perspective, that was even more irritating than Jenny's thinly-veiled sense of intellectual superiority, but he kept that to himself. At least his mom meant well.

"What's with the past tense?" Dan said, pulling his mom in for a quick hug. "It's not like she died. She's just no longer my girlfriend."

His mom grinned. "That makes her dead to me."

Dan laughed as he bent down to plant a kiss on the top of her head and couldn't help but notice that her hair smelled nice. Like flowers.

That was nothing new. He'd picked up on it before, and even thought about recommending her shampoo to Jenny. But even though he'd wisely held off on that, it hadn't really occurred to him just how creepy it would be for a guy to tell his girlfriend—if not in so many words—that he'd like her to smell a bit more like his mom.

Was the candle responsible for the awkward feelings Dan was now struggling to suppress? Or had they been there all along? Perhaps he wasn't seeing her in a new light because he'd dreamt of Ms. Conklin, but had lusted after his teacher because she sort of reminded him of his mom. Particularly in the chestal region. The candle hadn't done anything but force him to confront what was already inside him.

Come to think of it, he still wasn't sure Jenny had ever looked down on him intellectually. She'd made no mystery of the way his lack of ambition turned her off, but was that so different from his mom's disappointment? To the extent that it was, did it matter to his psyche? Had Jenny not reminded him of his mom as well, and in more than one way? Including, again, her sizable breasts. He was starting to see a pattern.

His mom's eyebrows inched closer together and her lips tightened. "This have something to do with Caleb?" she asked. "You went over there after I went to bed, didn't you?"

Dan tensed up. "Didn't know I wasn't allowed to."

She sighed and smoothed away imaginary wrinkles in his tee shirt. If that seemed to give her an excuse to test how hard his abs were—not as impressive as they'd been in his dream the night before, but nothing to be ashamed of either—that too was a product of an overactive imagination. One that had not been tampered with by a magic candle, however much it might seem that way. Because that just wasn't how the world worked. "You're on your own for breakfast and lunch," his mom said. "Should be home for dinner, though."

If only Dan could tuck his mostly erect cock up into the waistband of his jean surreptitiously. At least his mom didn't seem to be aware of the effect she was having on him. It wasn't like he was the size of a freaking forearm here, after all. Much easier to ignore than the club he'd been wielding in his all-too-vivid dream. "Where are you going?" he asked.

Her frown confirmed that he'd already received this information. She was always telling him things that he instantly forgot. "Into the city. I'm having lunch with a friend."

"That's right," he said, pretending to remember. "The one from college, right?"

His mom shook her head disapprovingly. She might not have deigned to answer his question, but there was a bemused look on her face. She took one last sip of coffee, placed the ceramic mug in the sink, and ran some water in it. "Try not to burn the place down," his mom said as she picked up her handbag and started towards the front door.

"That was just one time!" Dan called after her.

#

"Here," Dan said, handing Caleb a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. "For the beer."

Caleb raised an eyebrow at that last part.

"Among other things," Dan mumbled. "Extra bacon and extra cheese. Mom wouldn't approve, but that's what she gets for leaving an eighteen-year-old to fend for himself."

Thankfully, Caleb kept his mouth shut as he went and knelt in front of the coffee table. Dan followed behind, claiming his usual spot on the sofa. He watched as Caleb unfolded the white paper and beheld the gooey, meaty goodness spilling out of the bun, face impassive. How could a guy behold such wonders and not feel a deep sense of awe? That wasn't natural. Or maybe that was just what getting old did to you. If so, Dan hoped he died young.

After they ate, Dan described his nocturnal adventure. Caleb was interested in the details, but not out of prurience. His eyes seemed to gloss over when Dan talked about how hot his dream version of Ms. Conklin was, or how great the sex had been. His ears only perked back up when Dan started musing about how strange the experience had been and how it hadn't been like any other dream he'd ever had.

"I won't make you say it," the bearded one said at last.

"Say what?" Dan asked.

Caleb gave him a flat look.

"Okay, fine. That little trick of yours was just what I needed to take my mind off Jenny."

Again, no reaction. He just kept up the pressure with those dark eyes of his.

Dan sighed. "It was just a dream, man."

"No, it wasn't," Caleb told him, in no uncertain terms. "And you know that."

"You're saying it was magic?" he asked, scoffing. "Are we using the term figuratively? Like trip-to-Disneyland magic? Very-special-and-I'll-treasure-it-forever magic?"

"No," Caleb replied. "The real deal."

"Because teenage boys have sexually explicit dreams," Dan continued, as though Caleb hadn't even spoken. "I don't know how long ago that was for you, but that's totally a thing."