A Magical Night

Anita Handy had never been one for dating apps. She always tried to scope out men

when she went to her local bookstore, or while picking up groceries. She'd frequently

drop something and bend over in front of some random hunk, giving her ass a little shake. However, none of the men ever fell for it. Their eyes simply glossed over her luxurious buttocks and onto the memoirs, or the dairy aisle, or to their wives that stood right behind them.

She had downloaded Spark out of desperation. While relatively new, Spark promised a slew of magical dates in its App Store summary -- something none of the more traditional apps did. She found the tophat icon a cute touch.

It only took her a few swipes to match with someone. He was long, tan, and handsome, like a well-done stick of beef jerky. The name on his profile was "Mr. C", which left Anita intrigued.

What does the C stand for, in your name? She messaged.

Wouldn't you like to know ;) The man messaged back. The winky face alone was enough to get her flustered.

After an hour of flirting, the two agreed to meet at a local bar to get drinks that evening. Anita chewed on her fingernail, staring down at the man on her screen. His well-oiled chest and devious smile seemed to be made special for her. Anita slipped on a skimpy red dress and applied some matching lipstick. She wanted to look like a high-class hooker, or a low-class clown, or, if she was lucky, a medium-class Vaudeville performer. She strutted out of her apartment and across two blocks into the bar where most men never paid her a second glance. Inside, at the relatively empty bar, sat the love of her life, the man of her dreams, whom she had met only three hours prior. She sauntered up and took a seat next to him.

"Mr. C?"

The man looked up from his drink, a smile playing against his lips. He reached down and grabbed her hand.

"Ms. Handy, I assume?" He delicately kissed her hand, maintaining eye contact. "I'm charmed."

A blush spread across her face. She giggled and nodded towards his drink.

"I'll have one of whatever you're having."

"A woman of class." He turned and, with his free hand, snapped at the bartender. "Sex on the Beach, please."

The bartender looked around, bewildered. He pointed to himself, and Mr. C nodded. The bartender hurried over, his breath hot against Mr. C's ear.

"My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you by the back entrance." He scurried off before Mr. C could respond.

Anita never got her drink, but she did get some answers. Mr. C, or I. M Cumming, was a freelance ornithologist who had only recently moved to town. When he wasn't watching birds, cataloging birds, or mimicking bird calls, Cumming practiced magic.

"That's why I joined Spark," he concluded. He reached his hand up to sweep a strand of hair out of Anita's face, and when he brought it down, he held a quarter.

She hadn't realized it before: the tophat logo, the promise of magical hookups, it all made sense now. Spark was aimed towards amateur magicians! She had figured there were just an unusual amount of animal lovers in her area, given how many photos she saw of rabbits and birds.

"What makes magicians so special," she mused, "that they should be given a separate dating app from the rest of us?"

An mischievious grin spread across Cumming's face. He hopped out of his stool and gently pulled Anita to her feet.

"Allow me to show you."

Upon setting foot in Cumming's apartment, Anita's jaw dropped. The ceilings were high, and the windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling, even though she had no recollection of seeing such windows from the outside of the building. A plush couch sat snugly in front of a dark oak table, and a flat-screen TV hung on the wall. Framed photos of birds hung above the couch, perched on the table, and even nestled between the couch cushions. Cumming gestured grandly to the room.

"And this is just the living room," he winked.

The bedroom was even better and had even more bird photos. On the golden canopy that framed the bed was a photo of a cardinal mid-flight that looked as though it had been super glued on. On the ornate desk was a close-up of a robin's nest, the bright blue eggs contrasting against the blue of the bedsheets. On one of the satin pillows lay a photo of a sleeping crow.

"You'd be surprised how much of a demand there is for ornithologists," he said, draping an arm around Anita. She nuzzled into him.

"It is quite impressive," she purred. "Is that why you brought me here? To educate me on birds?"

Cumming laughed, squeezing her shoulder before pulling away. "No," he rasped, pulling his shirt over his torso, "I brought you here to saw you in half."

Instead of responding, Anita began to undress herself, her eyes never leaving the man who stood before her. He stared back with hungry eyes, pausing when he had undressed down to his boxers to watch her strip. She gently shimmied out of her red dress, revealing a matching set of black lace lingerie. Her underwear crested over the gentle slope of her behind, down her thighs, until it pooled at her ankles. She reached behind herself to unbuckle her bra and let it fall forward, revealing her already hard nipples.

Cumming bit the inside of his cheek and strode forward. He cupped her chin and pulled her into a deep kiss, biting her lip to draw out soft whimpers. He let his free hand trace along the curve of her hips, the gentle indent between her breasts, the smoothness of her stomach. He let his hand rest just above her vulva, close enough to indicate his intentions, but not close enough to give Anita any satisfaction. She shifted on her feet, hoping he would move his hand, but he wasn't budging. It wasn't until she whimpered against his mouth that he pulled away, with one last nip of her earlobe.

"Patience, dear."

He scooped her up and laid her down against the plush comforter, his gaze raking over her one last time before dropping to his knees. Lightly, he pushed her legs apart and momentarily admired her folds, already damp with anticipation. He circled her clit, only occasionally making contact, just frequent enough to frustrate Anita. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into her and slowly began to pump them in and out. She cried out at the sudden intrusion, any discomfort quickly making way for pleasure. Deep in her core, she began to feel something building up and spread through her center. She opened her mouth to warn him, but before she could, she saw something brightly colored coming out of her vagina. Masterfully, Cumming dragged one scarf after another out from her hole, the friction from the fabric adding ever more to her pleasure. She whimpered -- the scarves wouldn't stop coming. One after another, each one grazing her g-spot at the perfect angle to torment her. Slowly, the knot in her core began to unravel as the pile of scarves spread in between the two.

"How did--" Cummings cut off the question by ripping a scarf free from the bunch and placing it in her mouth. Her tongue flicked forward, and the taste of her own sex was still fresh against the fabric.

"Is that alright with you?"

Anita nodded. Still boxer-clad, Cumming hurried over to his desk and grabbed the well-worn deck of playing cards from the top of it. When he came back into view, his eyes were closed, and he was lazily shuffling the deck. He came to a stop in front of Anita and split the deck in half, showing her the middle card.

The five of spades, Anita thought. Wordlessly, he clapped the two halves of the deck back together and kept shuffling. After a few more moments, he delicately put the deck on the floor and pressed his weight against her.

"I hope you remember your card," he grunted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You'll be punished if you don't."

Anita nodded viciously and ground her hips against his boxers, desperate to be filled or at least a little bit more friction burn. Her eyes grew wide when Cumming slipped his thumb under the waistband of his boxers and slipped them down, revealing his already hard cock.

"Nothing gets me more worked up," he started, pulling her legs around his waist, "than showing off my magic wand."

Wordlessly, he thrust into her already soaking wet pussy, not bothering to start off at a slow pace. He slipped in and out of her with fervor, and the passion alone was enough to make her toes curl. He stretched her out suddenly, almost painfully. Almost. Anita's grunts and airy moans were muffled by the fabric, but from the cocky gleam in Cumming's eye, she knew he could hear them. She pushed herself against his cock, thrusting back to try and milk every ounce of pleasure from him. With one hand holding her leg, Cumming let the other travel between her legs. His fingers nimbly landed on her clit once again, and as he slowly began to toy with it, she arched her back, letting out a muffled scream. Another knot of warmth was curling spreading through her core.

"Come for me," he grunted, pushing himself with a finality into. Anita's eyes rolled back, and her walls fluttered around him. Her chest heaved as waves of pleasure ran through her body, starting as small neck twitches and evolving into full arching of her back. The mere sight and feeling of it was enough for his own cock to twitch with a sudden anticipation, and he pulled out of her still contracting core and released his load onto her chest.

As her body stilled, Anita tried to catch her breath. She couldn't understand why it was so stilted -- Cumming simply watched her as she coughed and heaved, removing the fabric from her mouth. Somehow, inexplicably, there seemed to be something still lodged in there. With a measured prowess, Cummings stuck two fingers down her throat and grabbed the item. She gagged at the intrusion, a string of drool dripping from her mouth onto her messy chest. He pulled his hand out to reveal the five of spades. Her awestruck expression told him everything he needed to know -- that was her card.

The opposite end of the canopy was cold when Anita awoke. She desperately needed a shower, and a bite to eat.

"Cumming?" She called. But the apartment appaeared to be empty -- she slipped on her red dress and looked through the apartment, yet it was dead quiet. She grabbed her phone off of the desk and opened it. When she went through her text history to find their conversation, it was gone. She frowned. Had she mistakenly deleted it last night? She looked for Spark on her phone, but couldn't find the widget anywhere. Moreover, she couldn't find it on the app store anymore, either.

Anita wasn't sure what to do. There was no way she dreamt up this wild experience, especially not since she was still in the man's apartment. Hesitantly, she grabbed her shoes and looked around the living room. The couch was empty, save for the bird photos. Perhaps he had some urgent ornithological business to attend to? Either way, she was starting to feel strange about being alone in an apartment that wasn't hers. She opened the door, sparing only one last glance at the starling hanging above the television. At that moment, she made a vow to herself to only sleep with magicians.