Wizard College - Mistletoe Mischief

Why are wizards so horny? Contrary to popular belief in the non-magical communities of the world, the word "wizard" isn't a gender-specific term. Male, female and non-binary magic users are all colloquially referred to as "wizard". Likewise, all male, female and non-binary magic users are, for the most part, very horny.

It's more than just a stereotype. In fact, rigorous scientific studies have been carried out over the years, to the mutual delight of all participants (not just blind and double-blind but bound and magically-bound). They've all conclusively proven an increase in libido, with measurable spikes in hormone levels and mucous-membrane lubrication, in the presence of magic. What they haven't proven is WHY. Of course, desire and sexual attraction are where science meets the human heart, which is also where magical ability resides.

No matter the explanation, wizards old and young are more active and open with their sexuality, leading to more relaxed views on monogamy, consent and the Kinsey scale. This is also why it's so surprising to find a wizard, especially one in her sophomore year of college, as disinterested in and oblivious to matters of sex as "Loopy" Lucy Goodsnatch seemed to be. And that's why Frank and Greg Weinie, twin brothers and Seniors at Wizard College, had become so enamored with this enigmatic coed.

She transferred with the start of the new school year, having recently moved to the states with her father. Apparently he was some kind of diplomat, and an infamous eccentric. Lucy was unique in her own right, with her light purple hair and bizarre conspiracy theories. Add her strange way of talking, as if she was always describing a dream that she couldn't quite remember, and the other students quickly dubbed her "Loopy".

She was a real beauty, though: tall and lithe with sleepy eyes and pouty lips. Her fashion sense was quite odd, somewhere between a hippy and a homeless man. She was always wearing something a little too out of fashion or the wrong size, but she always made it look good--especially when the clothes hung off her freckled shoulders, revealed a startling amount of leg, or showed the bounce of her small tits and prominent nipples. The girl never wore a bra.

The twins quickly took notice of her and by the time the holidays drew near they were positively obsessed. When the snow started flying, she took to wearing oversized coats around campus. This took all the fun out of their leering, so Frank and Greg finally escalated from admiration to pursuit. The twins wished each other luck and sought out opportunities to engage her in person.

Frank found her reading a book by herself in the cafe and bought her a hot chocolate. They talked for the better part of an hour and Frank learned more about the insidious activities of the jellybean industry than he'd ever thought possible.

Greg caught up with her at the art gallery and soon she was whispering to him about how the paintings moved when you weren't looking.

"But...they move when you ARE looking." He gestured to the portrait of a war general before them, who shifted and scratched his nose.

"I know that, silly," she sighed. "But I'm telling you, they move when we're NOT looking too."

When the brothers compared notes, they agreed that she was just as weird as they'd heard and, despite being single, she seemed uninterested in dating. They had both struck out, but their interest only grew.

They pestered their younger brother Rob, who was also a sophomore, for information. He was friends with her but couldn't answer many of their questions because she was, for all intents and purposes, kind of unknowable. He said she was nice but a space cadet, worked well with others but seemed to forget conversations immediately, and somehow got fantastic grades.

"She's not dumb," Rob expounded. "Just...I don't know...gullible? She believes some crazy stuff, always talking about some invisible creature or magical ailment that's taking over the government or destroying society."

"She's got a boyfriend?" Frank asked.

Rob shook his head. "I don't think so."

"She likes girls?"

Rob shook his head again. "Not that I know."

"What, she's doesn't fuck? Is she a prude?" He clutched his chest dramatically. "Or...GASP...religious?"

"No, she just...isn't like that I guess." Rob shrugged. "Maybe she's not interested."

"Paranoid and asexual, huh? So like, if I told her that her clothes are full of ghosts, she might strip down?" Greg quipped.

Rob snorted and shook his head, while Frank seriously considered his twin's suggestion. The germ of a plan, a very naughty plan, had planted itself in his mind, and it came to fruition less than two weeks later.

***

There were campus parties every Saturday night at Wizard College, but the weekend before winter break was especially exciting. Not only was it the start of the holidays and the official end of Final Exams week, but it was the last chance for alcohol-fueled debauchery before everyone went home to their families. That was why the frats and sororities all got together to throw one big bash, The Winter Warlock Dance.

It was great to have a holiday event where all the cliques and classes could come together, and by the end of the night many would be stumbling home through the snow in pairs or groups to cum together. Remember, wizards are horny.

Frank and Greg Weinie brought dates to the dance, but only for comedic value. That might sound cruel, but the ladies were made of snow. They had built two snow women out on the lawn, each with two snowballs stuck to her chest, and used a simple charm to make them mobile. It was a good laugh for a while, and got the red-headed brothers a great deal of attention as they led their dates around the dance floor and pretended to make out with them. But soon enough their lips were numb, they were getting hassled about the puddles, and their women were looking anorexic. So they took the melting maidens outside and let them fall to pieces, much to the dismay of their friend Lev Jackson.

"Aw, man," he whined drunkenly. "I was hopin' one of you would share. I wanted to give 'em my carrot." He humped the air sadly.

Frank patted his shoulder. "Sorry, man, but they were just frigid."

"Yeah," added Greg. "A real pair of ice queens, these two."

"Here," Frank scooped up the top snowball from his lady, with two pieces of charcoal for eyes and a smaller ring of fragments forming an "O" of a mouth. "Get some head, our Eskimo brother."

All three were giggling when Lucy Goodsnatch descended the steps and headed off toward her dorm. She was wearing an oversized Christmas sweater, thick and about thirty different colors of ugly, over a pair of skin-tight jeans. She hugged her body as thick snowflakes stuck to her long purple hair..

Frank grinned and elbowed his brother. "Whadya say we take another run at that...together?"

Lev cackled. "You're going after LOOPY? Why do you want a Sophomore anyway? That party is full of Senior girls!"

"People keep telling us we're sophomoric. What else are we supposed to do?" Greg quipped.

The brothers left their friend and paced Lucy all the way back to her building, admiring the long grace of her body even in a sweater that made her look like a kid wearing dad's clothes.

She didn't notice them until all three were inside the lobby of her dorm, stomping the snow off their boots and rubbing their hands together. She smiled and nodded, and they did the same. All three crossed to the elevator, and when they got in Lucy pressed the button for the fourth floor. She pulled a small newspaper out of her back pocket, unfolded it and started reading. Frank craned his neck and could see the headline BAT BOY MARRIES SANTA CLAUS.

"So which floor is she on?" Greg asked his brother, with a dramatic tone of improvisation.

"Fourth floor," Frank grinned. "She said I could borrow the book before the holidays, which is great because I really want to get a head start on my report about yeti mind control powers."

When Lucy heard that she looked up with a start. Then sh smiled. "Hey. You're Frank, right? And...Geronimo?"

"Very close. I'm Greg," said Greg.

She looked at one then the other, standing on either side of her. She compared their bright red hair and green eyes, their freckles and strong jawlines. They were tall boys, but she was tall enough that she barely had to look up. "Wait," she said. "Are you brothers?"

The identical twins, who their own mother sometimes couldn't tell apart, looked at each other and tried not to laugh. Frank, who'd been trying to mutter a charm under his breath, ruined it with a snort.

"Um, no," Greg said loudly. He watched Frank's lips moving and tried to cover his whispers with inane chatter. "We're best friends though, and wouldn't you know it a lot of people look at us and they say...HOLY SHIT!"

His exclamation was in response to the elevator making a terrible screeching sound and shuddering to a halt. The three of them jostled and fell against each other. Frank took the opportunity to grab Lucy's upper half, with the excuse of righting her. His explorations led him to believe she wasn't wearing any other layers under the thick sweater. Her body was long and lean, and deliciously unbound.

"Are you OK?" Greg asked Lucy. She nodded, looking around the small room with wide eyes.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Frank assured them. "Just a malfunction. I'm sure someone will come along soon, realize we're in here and have it fixed before you can say...AW FUCK!"

His exclamation was in response to something he saw on the ceiling of the elevator. The other two looked up and there was a decoration of green mistletoe with a tiny cluster of red berries, hanging from a twisted wire.

Greg met Frank's eyes and gave him a slight nod. Then he swore and shook his head.

"What's wrong?" Lucy asked in a tone very unlike her usual far-away voice. She was starting to panic.

"It's mistletoe."

"So?"

"So, you know that tradition Dudders have about mistletoe? About how you have to kiss under it?" Dudders was the word wizards used for non-magical folks.

Lucy nodded warily.

"It's because of the Wassailpixies. They hide in the mistletoe and when you're right underneath they'll try to attack."

"Attack? But I don't see—"

"There's one now!" Frank shouted. He pushed Lucy from behind so she fell against Greg. This time he was holding her sweater-wrapped torso against him, feeling her and smelling her. He swooped down and fastened his lips to hers. She gasped in surprise and he slipped his tongue between her full lips. He gripped Lucy's arms at her sides, effectively pinning them down, so she could only squirm and flap her hands in response. He tasted her sweet mouth, and felt her tongue press tentatively against his.

Finally Greg pulled back, staring into her beautiful and confused face. Her cheeks were pink and she was gasping for air. She dropped the newspaper.

"I'm sorry about that," Frank said from behind, reaching around to help her stand up straight again and really feeling her up in the process: her long, hard belly, the flare of her hips, and her loose tits like two small water balloons under all that wool. He grabbed the breasts through her sweater, squeezing and tweaking them as he turned her around. It was the most wonderful sensation of soft on soft against his palms, and his fingers sank in deliciously. She gasped again and Frank covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and sucking on her bottom lip.

"Women can't see the pixies," Greg explained while his brother's lips and hands kept Lucy busy. "So the men kiss them when they're underneath the mistletoe, to protect them. The Dudders don't even know why they do it, but every tradition has a reason."

Frank broke the kiss and stared intently into Lucy's eyes. "Everything has a reason, doesn't it? Even if it sounds crazy."

Lucy's eyes widened as this explanation pressed several of her favorite buttons. She started to nod and Frank kissed her again. This time she leaned into it, moaning softly.

"Trust us," Greg went on. "We can see the Wassailpixies that are trying to get inside you."

Lucy wrenched her head back. "Inside me?" She gasped.

Greg turned her toward him again, with his hands on her cheeks. Below their line of sight, Frank's hands continued to run across her belly and hips, then up to knead her breasts again. They were bombarding her with words and sensations, and she was dizzy with it.

"That's what the kissing is about." Greg kissed her for a long, searching minute before he continued. "Wassailpixies are squirmy little buggers, and we need to plug your holes."

Lucy raised her hands, looking ready to call the whole thing off. Before she could get two syllables out, Greg put his hand over her mouth.

"Shhhh," he said. "We're just protecting you."

Frank nodded. "Yeah, and considering we're stuck in this elevator for now, we actually need to do a lot more."

"A lot more?" she repeated warily, her voice muffled by Greg's hand.

Frank stepped closer and lowered his voice. "You know, before they were associated with the holidays they were originally called Pusspixies."

"Really?"

He nodded. "And there was a reason for that name." He lowered his eyes meaningfully.

Lucy gasped. Both her hands crossed in front of the crotch of her jeans. "You mean...my...special place?" She gulped, and the color rose in her cheeks again. "Like...inside me?"

Frank nodded solemnly. Greg removed his hand slowly, making a show of looking all around for any sign of pixie attack.

Lucy's eyes were downcast. "But...it's so wet and slippery. That will scare them away, right?"

Greg met his brother's eyes over her shoulder and looked away again before he could bust out laughing. "Um...no. You'd think so, but in fact there's nothing they like better than a place that's wet and slippery."

Lucy sighed and Frank glanced down to see a couple of her fingers had curled into the gap between her thighs and were stroking the material that hugged her crotch.

"And they like it hot. I bet it's hot," Frank said confidently. He rested his hands on her hips, holding her in place as he leaned even closer.

Lucy looked up into his eyes and nodded.

"And tight?" Greg whispered, his mouth near her ear.

"So tight," Lucy whispered, her fingers curling and pressing convulsively against her hot center. She jumped when Frank's fingertips gently hooked inside the waistband of her jeans and traveled around the rim, stroking her flat belly and meeting in the middle, at the button. He undid it and rasped down the zipper in one slow, smooth motion. A triangle of red and white striped underwear peeked out from the parted denim.

"Like a candycane," Frank murmured, flattening one hand against her stomach, and feeling her tremble beneath his palm as he pushed it down into her panties. She shook her head but stayed silent, watching his progress as though his hand on her body was something she could watch but had no control over.

In that tight space between her jeans and her body he was surprised to find no hair, making it a straight shot from her navel to her sex. Her pussy was smooth and tightly curled as a seashell, but the evidence of her arousal gathered at its rim. He moaned audibly as he felt how right she had been about the wet and the heat. And god, was she tight. The jeans needed to go.

Luckily Greg was already pushing them down over her hips, gaining speed as he shucked them down her long pale legs.

"Hey, wait," She said, "I don't think—" The rest of her protest was cut off by Frank lifting the front of her sweater, pulling it up over her face.

Lucy's breasts were even lovelier than he'd imagined, little handfuls that rose perkily from her chest and jiggled in place. Her nipples were light pink and puckered immediately in the cold air. With her arms caught up in the sweater, she could only whimper as he fastened his mouth to her coral and cream. He kissed and sucked, finding the hard little center of her tit and tugging it between his teeth. Her gasp was sharp and pushed her breasts harder into his face.

After Greg finished yanking her tight jeans off each leg (partway through the struggle he pondered magically removing her feet), he stood slowly and ran his hands all the way up her body. He finished with one hand flat on her tummy, pulling her back against him, and the other squeezing her untended breast. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly letting his other hand drop down to the crotch of her panties. The material was soaked through with her juices, and so very warm. Greg rubbed her lightly, feeling how her pussy lips had plumped and parted. He pushed a little harder and her panties slipped into the crack. Waves of heat surrounded his fingers as he shoved the material further into her molten center.

Lucy swayed between the two men, her body buffeted by several intense pleasures at once. Her panting was making the sweater around her arms and head unbearably humid, but she had lost words and could only groan. She had the dizzy feeling of being a head separated from a body, a body that looked a lot like hers but was being tortured with pleasure. She was vaguely aware of a hand pushing her panties deep into her pussy, and the stretching material put delicious pressure on her clit and the tight bud of her asshole. Then the hand pulled back, and she thrust her hips after it.

Greg's hand returned, gripping her crotch possessively. The heel of his hand began to make a circular, insistent pressure on her mound and the erect clit within, eliciting a long groan from the sweater. Gradually, his middle finger pushed her panties aside, slid along the length of her furrow and curled up inside her. He kept the insistent pressure on her clit the whole time, kept the rhythm. Her pelvis started to grind against his hand as he pumped the finger in and out of her tight channel.

His own cock was so hard in his pants, and he pushed it against her bare ass in time with the thrusts of his hand. She started to grind herself against him so he picked up the pace with his hand while he kissed the back of her neck. When he could tell she was on the verge, he bit her shoulder and shoved two fingers into her, hard.

Frank let Lucy fall back against his brother, whose hand was making a SCHLUK SCHLUK SCHLUK sound in her pussy as she shook and shrieked against him. Frank admired the sight while he threw off his coat and shirt and unbuckled his belt. He pushed his pants and underwear down, stripping off his socks and shoes at the end so he was left holding a crumpled ball of everything that had been below his waist. He tossed it aside and stepped forward, his hard cock waving proudly before him.

As soon as Lucy stopped cumming, all the tension left her body and she sank like a puppet with its strings cut. Greg lowered her safely to the floor, whispering in her ear how beautiful she was, how he loved the sounds she made when she came for him. Soon she was on her knees, and she felt Frank tug the sweater up and off her.

The cool air felt good on her sweaty and flushed face. She ran a hand through her hair, pulling it back out of her eyes, while her other hand came to rest on Frank's thigh. He was standing over her, naked and smiling. Her gaze took in his long body, lean with some muscle tone, and a trail of red hair that led down his flat stomach to his curly red bush. Jutting out of it was his penis, long and lean as the rest of him, pulsing in time to his heartbeat, up and down like a metronome. Below it she could see his furry ballsack, heavy with the load he yearned to give her.

Suddenly she felt Greg gripping her hips, pulling her pelvis back and up in the air. He was saying something she couldn't quite hear about Wassailpixies, but it was lost in the overload of the sight before her and the need to correct her balance by placing both hands on the ground. As soon as she was on all fours, Greg slid down her soaking wet candy cane-striped panties. Then he leaned into her parted legs and gave her a long lick from clit to asshole.