The Magician

- by heather m. -


My eyes were on the prize. Nestled three rows back, the velvet cushions brushed my forearms and the backs of my exposed thighs, making the little hairs stand on end. The house lights dimmed and the stage before me erupted in a blaze of red, purple and gold. And that’s when I saw her – brilliant and burning beneath the stars – she was all the magic I ever needed to see. Her porcelain smile was perfection. Her amber skin was alive. Her movements claimed my attention. Somewhere else on the stage there may have been magic – something slight of hand – a theatrical stunt meant to betray the viewers’ eyes. Around me, the audience roared with laughter and applause, entertained by him, the Magician. But, not me. She stole my gaze and stoked my desire from the moment she set foot on stage. Like him, the Magician, she was a trickster of sorts – one that bound me with her charms. I was her captive and could not imagine anything more sublime.

A hush fell over the crowd and silence blanketed the theater. The lights were low and tensions were high. I watched her twist and fan and shine with celestial grace – a yin-and-yang tug-of-war between the light and the dark of the mischievous arts she served. But beneath the facade, I imagined her passion ran deep … a well of mysteries and hidden magic that were mine to explore. Her exotic spell drove my mind to thoughts of primal need, a savage hunger for amber flesh, full lips and forbidden pleasure. Her magic hurled me deep into that place, down into the depths of her wild woman-hood.

My fingers crept beneath the folds of my snug cocktail dress – stealthy and unhurried. Unencumbered by panties or inhibitions, my outer folds twitched with an air of anticipation. I shifted casually, adjusting my position. My fingers slipped along my inner thigh. Intermission was still so far away, so I had all the time that the next twenty minutes would allow. Just enough time to indulge in the fantasy within my head and with her at the center of my imagination. My date, unaware and sitting to my left, was absorbed in the spectacle on the stage. His attention, like that of the crowd, was easily distracted, so, it is a good thing that I am right handed. No better time to explore a moment with myself in the secrecy of my pleasure.

My fingers found that one perfect spot – so feather soft – so iron hot – so incredibly right. My eyes looked ahead, as my vision abandoned focus and my concentration turned inward, shielded and indifferent to my surroundings. She was a faint, radiant flicker lingering in the distance … still there ... but to me, she felt light years away. The magic on the stage caused the crowd to let out a gasp, and my fingers pierced deep into the warmth between my fleshy thighs. The “ooo’s” and the “ahh’s” of the oblivious crowd in a perfect harmony with the inner workings of my finger’s quick rhythm. Something was happening on the stage, building to the climax of the act, while in my mind, I imagined her tongue trailing along my neck and her full lips feasting on my breasts. Her fingers clawing over my ribs and sinking firmly into my hips as her feral mouth finds my center of pleasure. A sigh escaped my lips as the Magician gestured, and then, paused, the illusion about to be revealed to the eager showgoers. My pelvis rocked quietly and unseen, while the illusion of her lips eating me alive played out in my head.

And then, just for a moment, I thought she looked right at me – her hungry eyes bore into me, seeing my truth, my desire, and my need. The wildness within it nearly overtook me. Locked within each other's gaze an urgent cry filled my chest. But I held it in – breathing in short, biting breaths – a steady beat pulsed between my legs and lips and thighs. With a flare of strobing lights, the Magician unveiled his final act. The audience exploded with a barbaric roar as I released myself unrestrained – erupting into my hand and exploding within my mind, shattering pieces of me into the universe beyond. My finale shuddering in quiet waves of pleasure through my tortured, aching body.

My date, sitting to my left his eyes glued to the stage, was still unaware of the silent performance only inches to his right. The swell rising from my core and rushing to my toes, curled back into the rivets of my spine. Every muscle tightened, now relaxed. It was a magical moment in the dark. Alone and at one with my peace, yet bound within the confines of the tumultuous crowd. And still, my date noticed nothing.

My body receded into the chair. Her spell was broken and the charm worn away, as the sights and sounds of the crowded room around me returned to my foreground. I smiled to myself, a satisfying and bold sort of smile, as the music and movement on stage told me that intermission was coming soon. The prize was mine, my date none the wiser, and the magic I shared with her was a secret interlude. And all before the house lights blazed back on, shining on my reality.

To my surprise a heavy hand rested on my right thigh. It’s weight and warmth demanding my attention. I looked to my right and, in the darkness, I could just make out the glinting eyes and dazzling teeth revealing a broad smile that could not be contained.


- end -