I Accidentally Summoned a Demon Boyfriend

1. Booty Juice

“He left his booty juice in my car!” I screamed at the phone as I frantically scrubbed the custom pewter leather seat. I’d waited four months for the color, and it was ruined after one bad date! My arms were already burning, but I was determined to erase every damn microscopic piece of evidence from my car. “I swear, I am done with dating!”

Of course, I’d said it a hundred times before. Hell, every single woman over thirty-five had, but what was I supposed to do? Give up? Maybe that was the answer: wave the white flag proudly above my head, buy a few cats, and head off into the mountains, never to be seen again.

“Girl, what?” my friend, who I video-called as soon as I got home, damn near choked as she tried to hold back her laughter. Her raspy voice was a stark contrast to my smooth flow. “Booty juice? What the hell is booty juice? Is that a new drug or some shit?”

“No! It’s little drippings from the crack of his dirty ass!” I twisted my lips and pushed the perfectly coiled strands of my twist-out away from my face. I couldn’t believe I wasted such a bomb hairstyle on what would go down in the hall of fame for horrible dates. “There is no way I am ever going to get this clean enough. I just need to buy a new car at this point. How can I sit my tacos on this seat now?”

“Tacos? Girl, stay focused, because you’re losing me.” The sharp snaps of Keri’s coffin-shaped fingernails clicking together brought my attention back to the phone I’d propped up on my dashboard. “How the hell did he get ass juice on your car seat?”

“Bitch, his pants were so damn tight and way too small for his ever-expanding ass. You know, before we met, he kept saying how he’d gained weight. I thought maybe he had some cute love handles or something, but no! The man had to be at least forty pounds heavier than he was in any of his pictures, but his clothes, unlike his ass, have not gone up a single size.” I tossed the scrub brush into the seat and threw my hands on my hips.

“Hold up. Wait a damn minute, please back up.” Keri looked like she would pop a vein as she tried to hold her laughter. “How did the date go?”

“How did it go?” I stared at the phone propped up on the dashboard. “Let’s see. He showed up late and bragged about how he was so well known at this spot. Oh yeah, he was well-known—so much so that the waitress looked disgusted when we entered the damn door. We sat down, and he made a fuss about not getting immediate service then went to the bathroom, where he apparently text me how beautiful I looked while pissing!”

“How would you possibly know that?” Keri squinted like she didn’t believe me. I only wished I was making this shit up.

“He told me about it when he came back to the table!”

“No, he didn’t!” She screamed and slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m done. Why would he do that?”

“Yes!” I calmed myself before continuing. “Fast forward through awkward conversation and side glances from the waitress, and we finally get our food. This man starts inhaling his soup like I’m going to take it from him. Girl, it was so disgusting. He was sopping up the stuff with the bread, and it was everywhere. I felt like I was on a date with a toddler. And when he finally thinks to pick up the napkin, does he clean the soup dripping down his hand or all over his chin? No! He dabbed the corner of his mouth and stared at me like I was crazy for not eating. How could I eat after watching that?”

“Well damn. I didn’t think it would be that bad.” Shades of guilt covered her face, and she averted her eyes. She was the one who convinced me to go on the date.

I was two seconds from canceling when she insisted I give the man a chance. I would never let her live this down.

“After he finished the drink he ordered for me without thinking to ask me what I liked, he asked me to drive him back to his car. You know my overly nice ass said yes. So, I took him to where he parked, avoided an unwanted kiss, and the next thing I know, I’m looking over at his ass as he struggled to get out of my car!”

“Okay, so the date sounds like a nightmare, but maybe you’re just inflating the booty thing to be more than it was because of how awkward everything else was. I mean, was it just like the top of the cheek?” Keri tried her best to erase some of the emotional damage, but it was no use. “I mean, it’s not appealing, but it’s not the end of the world either.”

“No!” I whined and stomped my foot like a frustrated toddler. As my eyes fell on the seat, I shuddered. Flashes of ashy cheeks passed through my mind, and I thought I would lose the dinner I barely finished. “It was full ass crack. I’m surprised I didn’t see ball hair! And then,” another shiver passed over me, “I looked down at my seat and I saw it. A sweaty line of booty juice!”

“Girl,” Keri laughed and slapped her hand on the table next to her. “You have got to stop calling it that. I can’t take it!”

“Keri, what else would you call it?” I tapped my foot and narrowed my gaze at my dark-eyed friend as she struggled to gather herself. “I’m waiting.”

“Um, something to remember him by?” Keri lost it. Her chubby cheeks turned bright red, and she laughed so hard, her jerking body hit the table, which caused her phone to topple to the floor. I stood there, annoyed, as I waited for her to crawl under the table and retrieve it, all while choking on her own laughter.

“Right, a lovely little memento.” I stuck my tongue out as she finally came back into the frame. “You’re not helping me right now!”

“I’m sorry.” She snorted as she fixed her glueless wig, which had shifted during her struggle to grab the phone. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to stand here in my sweatpants and favorite comfy t-shirt while I use every damn drop of cleaner I have in this house to get this mark of shame out of my seat. Dammit, and I just got my car detailed!” I rolled my eyes as I thought of the wasted expense. “Shit, I should send his juice dripping ass the bill!”

Keri tried to stifle her laugh, but it turned into a hideous snort. She smacked her hand over her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Keri, I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” I scowled and pointed my finger at the screen. “I come to you in my time of need, when my world is falling apart, and all you do is laugh!”

“You are so damn dramatic. Hold on, we need a conference call.” Keri started tapping her phone screen. “The girls must know all about this.”

“No, no.” I shook my hand in the camera. “You go back and report to the henhouse. I can’t. I have to finish this and then climb in my shower and scrub away the memories of this terrible… terrible night.”

“Rayna.” Keri sighed, softening her voice as she prepared to give the same words of encouragement all the booed-up girlies kept in their back pockets for their sad, single friends. “Girl, it’s going to be okay. I promise, it gets better.”

“It’s okay, it really is.” It took everything not to roll my eyes at her. “I just need about six months to erase the image from my mind and feel stable enough to try this again.”

“Bae, you coming?” a deep voice called out in Keri’s background.

“Is that Brandon?” I asked about the man who’d walked into my best friend’s life eight months prior. Since the first time he flashed his bright smile at her, she’d been lost in the sauce of his love. The two barely spent any time apart, and it only got worse after he moved in with her.

“Yeah, we’re headed out to see a late movie.” Keri couldn’t help herself. The goofy love smile stretched across her face.

“I guess the ladies will have to wait for your recap.” I waved her off. “Go enjoy your mans.”

“Seriously, all jokes aside, are you going to be okay?” Keri asked. “You’ve had a truly concerning string of bad dates lately.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to conjure me up a boyfriend.” I chuckled at the thought. “Eliminate the headache of all this.”

“What?” Keri gawked. “Conjure a boyfriend?”

“Girl, it’s nothing. I’m just joking… mostly. There’s this fantasy book I read where the main character said this spell and boom, she had the perfect boyfriend.” I thought of the magical storyline that had the perfect solution to modern dating. “All it took was a special candle, some oils, a feather, and a dance in moonlight. Then, just like that, the love of her life knocked on her door the next day. If only it were that simple.”

“Well, let’s not jump to using magic just yet.” Keri shook her finger at me. “You know I don’t play about stuff like that. My grandmother gave me more than enough warnings.”

“I’m not that desperate…yet.” I picked up the phone from the dashboard. “But you know, it would be nice if we could all get together. You know, a girls’ night? We haven’t done that since I became the last single girl in the group.”

“Of course. I think we could all use it.” Keri picked up her phone and started walking through her home, turning the lights off as she went. “We’ll set something up for this weekend. I’ll drop details in the group chat.”

“Cool, have fun at the movie.” I gave a quick wave as the call ended and turned my attention back to the tainted seat in my car.

Call me crazy, but I was determined to make the seat spotless, no matter how badly my arms burned. Maybe if I could get the damn thing clean enough, it would erase what happened, and all the previous bad dates along with it. Like the guy who massaged my hand and gave me a headache that lasted a week. Or the one who got mad at me for beating him in arcade games and took my rewards card so I couldn’t get a prize.

But I knew no amount of scrubbing would erase the image of the man who wanted me to nurse him. Yes! He wanted to latch on to my titties like a newborn baby and nurse! I know I’m not a part of the itty-bitty titty committee, but that doesn’t mean I want to be a wet nurse to a full-grown man!

The internal recordings of my mother’s nagging played in my head. Every time we spoke, she went on and on about those damn fish in the sea. What she failed to realize was that the modern pollution of dating apps, social media, and #relationshipgoals had mutated the fish! As many times as I’d said it before, I really wanted to call it quits. Maybe that’s what I needed: a nice long break from fishing. Part of me wished to keep the hope of catching a good one alive, but the cynical side of me was growing more and more with each disgusting encounter.

“Fuck it. I’m buying a new car. This one is ruined.” I slammed the door and headed inside to the oasis that awaited me in my bathroom. That was where I ran to recover when my days weren’t as great as I’d hoped.

I’d worked hard building two careers, one in the arts landing my work in galleries around the world, and one as a digital marketer to Fortune 500 companies to give me a life of leisure. I took a nice chunk of my income to work with a designer who gave me the bathroom of my dreams, complete with a massive tub, heated stone flooring, a luxurious sauna shower, and yes, a bonnet warmer. You haven’t lived until you’ve slipped a warm bonnet over a fresh twist down.

I expected to share the life I built with someone special, thought I’d have a partner to celebrate my wins with and even confide in when things didn’t go my way. The older I got, the more I asked myself: was it so bad to enjoy it alone? I had a wonderful home, a flexible schedule, good friends, and loyal clients who kept my bank account full.

I may not have been able to get the car clean enough, but I would damn sure step into my shower and turn on that full body shower system to scrub the ick of the night from my skin, even to the detriment of my precious melanin. I hoped the shea butter gods would forgive me.

A week later, I sat alone with a ball of anxiety growing in my gut. “These bitches better not ditch me here!”

10:00 PM

The time popped up on my phone screen, and I rolled my eyes after checking the door again. It wasn’t even my plan, meeting at this overpriced bar at eight on a Friday night. Something in my gut told me it was too good to be true. This was prime time for newly booed-up couples to go out on their cute little dates. Yes, I wanted the outcome to be different, but it’d be a lie to say I was surprised by those heffas bailing on me.

After sitting alone at the bar for nearly three hours reading a series of “I’m running late,” and “I won’t make it” text messages, I threw away any hope of seeing my girls. Each tap of my nail against the rim of the glass in front of me was another point of realization. I had to get used to this new life as the last single girl in the group.

We’d always promised each other that when we got into a relationship, we wouldn’t forget our friends. We’d retain a sense of independence and connection with the girls. Liars. If any of them had been truthful, I wouldn’t be nursing a drink alone in a bar while trying not to sneeze from all the competing scents of cologne.

The last thing I wanted was to have to go out and make new friends. At thirty-whatever, it was so hard to find genuine connections with people, and that wasn’t limited to men. The idea of making new friendships as an adult sounded as appealing as detangling my hair with a fine-toothed comb. With everyone bringing their own bag of drama and prejudices, tiptoeing around them became a nightmare.

As a scuzzy guy in a cheap suit made his way back to my side of the bar, I peeped the quickest route to the exit. I’d avoided his advances twice already, and I didn’t see how I would get away from the terrible breath and BO a third time without at least having to give out a fake number.

After a quick goodbye with Darryl, the bouncer who knew Keri, I made it to my car. When the door closed, I relaxed and silently celebrated having successfully avoided any more awkward interactions with the male species. I drove home ignoring the string of notifications on my phone. I guess they finally realized no one showed up.

“Maybe I’ll get a cat,” I muttered as the garage door lowered behind my car. There had been a stray cat lingering in my backyard before I got the fence put up. Maybe I could find him and give him a home. I glared at the soiled passenger seat. There wasn’t a visible stain, but I knew what happened there. I’d never forget it.

Inside my home, a three-bedroom, two bath, corner lot beauty I got my hands on just before the market exploded, I got myself into a good mood. One bottle of cherry Moscato and a 90s RB jam session later, and I was dancing around my home to Deborah Cox and feeling fuzzy. When the room started spinning, I flopped down onto the plush white sofa that cupped my ass like the horny boyfriend I wished I had.

“This is some bullshit.” I sighed and looked over to see the book I’d told Keri about still sitting on the coffee table.

To Conjure Love. The book that had me wishing love was so dang easy. True, the couple in the story still had trials, but damn it. One good spell, and the man of your dreams just drops into your lap. What girl wouldn’t want it to be that easy? No more swiping left on twelve hundred duds just hoping a decent guy would show up. No more going to stupid meet ups praying the love of your life was feeling equally pathetic and signed up for a singles mixer.

I picked up the book, flipping through the pages, and sighed. “Wouldn’t it be nice… I could try it. I mean, what would it hurt?”

Giving up on the silly idea, I tossed the book aside on the couch. The damn thing bounced off the plush peach couch cushion and somehow slid underneath the mosaic coffee table I’d picked up in Bangladesh. When I bent down to pick it up, I couldn’t help but laugh. The book had fallen open to the exact page where the spell was laid out in full detail, and what did my drunken mind think?

How could I not do it? The universe clearly wants me to, damn it!

The words on the page moved in psychedelic waves as I tried to focus on the list of ingredients. I needed a lavender scented candle, moonlight, and three oils: jasmine, sandalwood, and patchouli.

Thank you, oil sample kits. I had each one and even added a little lavender to the mix, since lavender was my favorite. I read over the spell.

In the cast of moonlight, touch the mixture of oils to your wrists, neck, chest, and forehead, then light the candle and recite the spell.

“Simple enough,” I said and started mixing the oils in a small bowl.

After mixing the oils, I opened the curtains over the large bay window where I typically sat to read. The moon was full and looked like someone had reined it in closer to Earth. I don’t think I’d ever seen it take up that much space! That alone should have told my drunk ass not to be messing with magic, but I kept the dream alive. The moonlight washed into the room, and I hummed.

The bench beneath the window operated as additional storage and was the resting grounds for the tools of my candle making obsession. Lifting the pillow topped lid, I found the perfect candle sitting right on top. It was a large red gothic attempt that was coincidentally perfect for love-summoning magic. I’d used Ylang Ylang oil in the wax, so it would be fragranced as well. Again, this should have been a sign for me to stop. When I was sober, I didn’t believe in coincidences!

With the candle ready, it was time to do the spell. My head was still spinning from all the wine, but I dabbed the oil mixture on my inner wrists and neck before pouring a healthy amount down my cleavage and then touching it to my forehead. Next, I lit the candle and positioned myself where my full body was lit by the moonlight. The hairs on my arms stood as I recited the spell.

“Light of the moon, heat of the flame, bring me the one whose soul knows my name,” I called out to the moon, as if it would somehow make this fictional magic real. Then, I closed my eyes and whispered it three more times. When I opened my eyes, I stood there looking around the room, like I’d actually expected it to work. “Hello? Magical boyfriend, are you there?”

When there was no response to my call—not that I really thought there would be—I blew out the candle and closed the curtains, cutting off the soft moonlight.

“Not even magic can help me,” I huffed as I chugged the last of the wine and headed for the shower. Someday, maybe, I would get a man, but a spell from a random fantasy novel wasn’t going to be the thing to make it happen.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit I spent half an hour in the shower. I’d just gotten a new detachable shower head that made the experience… so much more enjoyable. It wasn’t until the water got so cold my nipples pebbled that I glided out of the bathroom, breast bouncing free, a towel wrapped around my chubby waist. The music was still playing, and it was about three seconds before I was swaying my hips to the rhythm.

I was dancing my heartache away when I saw something—something that made my heart pound in my chest, and I hoped like hell it was because of the wine. I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned to the figure. Surely, it would disappear like the phantom image you can never quite catch. My slow turn wasn’t slow enough though, because as my view shifted, the figure was still there.

“You called?” the deep voice spoke from the corner where the apparent intruder stood.

“Oh, hell no!” I bolted for the door, titties flopping with each step. There was no way I was staying there. I didn’t care who he was. What I wasn’t going to do was sit around and find out what sick shit he wanted to do to me.

Just before I made it to the door—damn me for wanting such a big ass bedroom—the figure appeared in my way. I hadn’t seen or heard him move, but he was there. I skid to a halt, nearly falling on my ass, and in a moment when I should have been terrified, the wine in my system told me it was time to laugh. And I did. I doubled over, clutching my sides.

Why the hell was I laughing when there was an intruder in my home? Because the man in front of me had horns! Actual horns that sprouted from his forehead. His skin was dark with a purple tint, and he had to be at least a foot taller than me. When I stopped laughing, shoulders still bouncing with soft chuckles, I looked him up and down. I noted the dark nodes along the length of his bare arms and the even darker energy that radiated from him.

My brain refused to accept this as reality. This wasn’t an intruder intending to rob me. It was only a dream, a figment of my imagination. I learned a long time ago not to be afraid of the creations of my own mind.

“Damn, I must have fallen asleep.” I glanced back over my shoulder at the bathroom door. “I knew that shower felt too damn good.”

“I’m sorry?” He cocked his head to the side. “Why have you called me here?”

“Oh, well, fuck it. If it’s a dream, I’m going with it.” My mind was already spinning with ideas of how to turn this dream from horror to something a lot more fun. “At least I can get kinky while I sleep!”

“A dream?” his voice rumbled with annoyance as I moved closer to him.

“You have horns!” A hiccup interrupted my giggle as I lifted my hand up to touch them. “I like your horns.” My eyes dropped to the black slacks that covered his lower half. “Do you have another horn?”

“Are you okay?” He frowned at me and I smiled. He looked damn near human in his features: wide nose, sharp jawline, and only a slightly inhuman look to his flesh. For what I assumed was a demon of some sort, my brain had created him to look more like a man I wouldn’t turn down for a second date.

“I’m great, but you can make me better.” Feeling inspired by all the romance and demon smut novels I’d been reading, I pulled the knot loose on the towel and let it fall from my waist. “Make me better, demon bae. You are a demon, right? I read demons come with interesting… tools.”

“I am a demon.” He frowned, and those subtle ridges became far more pronounced. “Where did you read about demonic tools?”

“Don’t worry about the tools.” I brushed off his question, took a half step back for leverage, and then leapt into his arms. “Fuck me, demon.”

“I will not.” He refused my request, but he didn’t put me down.

“You say no, but you’re gripping my ass right now. Hey, this is my dream. I summoned you, which means you have to do what I want. And what I want,” I lifted in his hold to put my boobs in his face, “is to be fucked!”

I leaned in to kiss him, and he hesitated. Rarely had I been rejected by a man my mind designed, but maybe that was the twist to this dream. This was a demon. He would be hard to get. So I persisted, moving my lips against his and licking them like they were my favorite flavor of ice cream. It was after my thigh rubbed against his dick, awakening his demonic tool, that he succumbed to me.

“Dammit,” he muttered beneath my kiss, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as he tossed my ass on the bed like I weighed nothing at all.

“That’s right, demon boy!” I cheered, but he stood at the foot of my bed staring at me.

“You’re intoxicated.” He shook his head at me almost like he was disappointed in me. The nerve of a demon judging me for having a drink or two.

“So what if I had a little wine?” the hiccup slipped through my lips. “I know what I want. This is my dream; you’re supposed to do what I want.”

“This is no dream.” He stepped closer to the bed.

“Whatever you say.” My brow lifted as I examined him. This has to be a dream. “I know what I want right now. That’s you, naked.”

“Are you sure what you’re asking for?” he said it as if his lower half hadn’t already betrayed him. I could tell by the sudden tightness of his pants that I wasn’t the only one who wanted it.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Strip!”

And he did. No more protest. I’d broken the resistance of the dream and took in the view of the demon man as he removed the weathered clothing from his body. The man looked amazing. Fit body, not too muscular, brawny arms and chest with a slight pudge to his stomach. It was when he dropped his pants that my mouth fell open. I’d like to say I didn’t salivate at the sight of his dick, but I did. It was large, pulsing, with the same nodules that marked his arms, only smaller and with beneficial placements. “Oh, my God.”

“Do not praise God when looking at my dick,” he ordered.

“Oh, my… devil?” I frowned and forced my eyes away from his member to look up at him. “Whoever is responsible, they did a good job.”

“I suppose that’s better.” He pulled my legs apart and dropped to his knees in front of me. “Let’s get you ready for my tool.”

“Well damn, get me ready!” My giggle quickly turned into a deep moan as his face dipped between my thighs.

Though I only saw one tongue, it felt like he had at least four working between my legs. Every time I looked down to try to catch a glimpse of what magic he was working to make it feel like he was both licking my clit and swirling his tongue inside my pussy at the same time, my eyes slammed shut with another orgasm. The man had only put in two minutes of work, and my hands were clutching the sheets like we’d been going rounds.

I squealed as he pushed my legs higher, lifting my ass just high enough for that third tongue to explore another hole, a hole I had never explored before, and dammit if it didn’t feel amazing. I gripped my legs, amazed at my own flexibility as I helped him gain access.

Next thing I knew, he flipped me over onto my stomach – ass tooted in the air – and slapped my cheeks, groaning as he watched the recoil. I looked back at him, and I swore the horns on his head grew as he stared at my ass. One hand braced the bed near my face as he leaned into me. The weight and heat of his body added to my growing excitement, and when the head of his dick pressed against my lips, my pussy started dripping, ready to accept him.

“Breathe,” his deep voice rumbled in my ear, and I almost said something smart mouth. Almost.

My eyes widened as he slowly entered me. The sensation was unlike anything I’d felt before. Inch by inch, nodule by nodule, he forced my walls to expand and mold to him. For a demon, he was gentle… at first. But the moment my pussy started throbbing, gripping around him and growing wetter, begging for more, he abandoned that gentle shit. Each thrust sent him deeper into me, and he picked up the pace so much that the headboard slammed against the wall, echoing each stroke.

Just as I adjusted to him and started pushing my ass back against him, he flipped me back over.

“I want to see your face,” he said, and a moment later he was back inside me. “Show me how much you like my tool.”

I saw a dark glint in his eyes, the lift at the corner of his lips, and then, I felt it. The nodules on his dick moved! I didn’t understand what was happening at first. This unfamiliar feeling was like a cyclone inside my pussy, better than any vibrator I’d ever had.

Encouraged by the motion, I flipped the demon onto his back, grabbed his horns, and rode him like he was the mechanical bull at the rodeo bar that always had too many women in line for me to bother trying to hop my ass up there, but this bull was all mine. I had no idea when this dream was going to end, but I was going to take every damn orgasm I could get. Hell, maybe I’d remember the details of his dick, make a new prototype, and become a millionaire when it hit the market! I bounced my ass on top of him wildly until he gripped my hips, forcing me to ease up.

“Take your time, woman,” he ordered and before I could protest, his dick revved up inside me and pushed me into another orgasm.

“Oh. My. G-” I started, but his hand covered my mouth.

“Say it again, and I won’t leave you with enough strength to even think his name,” he warned.

This time, it was me who had the devilish grin as he pulled his hand from my face. I looked him straight in those dark eyes and knew my next words would be playing with fire. Match lit!

“God,” I said and then squealed as he flipped me over and fucked me so good, that at one point, I swear, I forgot the lord’s name.