Amorous Goods: The Flute

Prologue:

A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed away and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. These are the stories of some of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

THE FLUTE

Jeff had recently joined our small team of international shipbrokers. He was new in town and single. I knew he would soon sort out his social life, but he would be lacking some home comforts in the short term, so I invited him to our house for dinner one Friday after work. My wife, Hazel, is a wonderful woman and an excellent cook. After a superb dinner she offered to tidy up while Jeff and I went through to our lounge for a wee dram.

I got out the Glenfarclas and poured us each a generous measure.

"I see you have a flute of some sort on top of your mantelpiece" Jeff observed. "Do you play it at all?"

"Not really," I replied. "I use it from time to time, but I don't actually play it. It's not really for playing in the normal sense of making music. To tell you the truth, it's a magical Japanese shakuhachi flute. I got it years ago from an old guy who ran a curiosity shop full of antiques and bric-a-brac. I think the shop was called Amorous Goods."

Jeff grinned and settled back on the Chesterfield sofa where he was relaxing. "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind it?" he enquired.

"There sure is," I replied. "Shakuhachi flutes are traditionally made from bamboo or cane, but this one is said to be made from the wood of one of the six ancient zelkova trees of old Roppongi. It's a district of Tokyo that's famous for its nightlife nowadays. Of those six old trees, three were cut down around a hundred years ago and the others were destroyed in the Second World War. The story goes that the six trees were invested with the spirits of six witches and the wood from those trees has magical powers."

"And you believe that?"

"I was sceptical at first, but the shop owner arranged a demonstration of the flute's magic. The old guy told me if I blew just one note on that flute, the next woman who came into the shop would give me a blow job. I had to pay a deposit of five hundred dollars then he let me use the flute."

I paused and took a sip of the whisky, cherishing my memories.

"From the look on your face, presumably it worked," said Jeff.

"Less than a minute after I blew a note on the flute an attractive young woman came into the shop. She saw me holding the flute and without saying a word she dropped to her knees in front of me, unzipped my trousers and fished out my dick. As far as I'm concerned, any blow job is a good blow job, but I can honestly say that was one of the best blow jobs I have ever had. She licked and sucked me until I came like an express train. She swallowed it all, tucked me back in, zipped me up, thanked me profusely and left the shop."

"So did you buy the flute?" he asked.

"You bet I did." I said with a smile. "The five hundred dollar deposit was non-refundable on condition the old guy could prove the magic flute worked, but I still had to pay another five hundred bucks on top of that."

"In other words, you got a blow job and a small wooden flute for a thousand bucks?"

"Yes indeed and it's been well worth it."

"You're kidding!" Jeff exclaimed sceptically. "I bet it's never worked since you tried it out in that shop."

"Jeff, I can honestly say it's worked every single time since then," I said, "That's why it has a place of honour on our mantelpiece. I wouldn't say this to just anyone, but I can let you try it for yourself."

"You want me to borrow your flute?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "The flute stays here. You can have a shot at it right now, but you must agree not to breathe a word to anyone about it."

"Okay," he said, standing up and taking the flute from its resting place on the mantelpiece. "It would be rude of me to turn down your invitation."

Glancing at me almost suspiciously, as if he was expecting some sort of practical joke, he sat back down on the sofa and blew a squeaky note on the instrument.

A few moments later Hazel came through the door from the hallway, looked at me enquiringly and then saw Jeff holding the flute. Without hesitation she went over to the sofa, got down on her knees in front of Jeff, unzipped his trousers and got his dick out. She leaned over his crotch and started to lick and suck his dick enthusiastically. He leaned backwards over the arm of the sofa in an effort to give her easier access, grinned happily, raised his eyebrows at me and mouthed the word "Wow!"

I took the opportunity to recharge our whisky glasses while Hazel polished Jeff's knob, bringing him to a gasping finish. Afterwards she tucked his dick back in his trousers and zipped them up, got to her feet, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, thanked Jeff and smiled at me as she headed back to the kitchen.

"Are you okay with that?" Jeff asked quietly.

"No problem as far as I'm concerned," I replied. "Hazel absolutely loves giving blowjobs. Very occasionally a special guest gets to enjoy a happy ending after dinner. If Hazel likes them enough I let them toot the flute. It's just a good excuse for some adult fun."

Jeff grinned from ear to ear. "Well, as far as I'm concerned that was truly a magical experience, but the real magic is not in the flute. It's in the art of the blowjob!"

"Exactly," I replied. "The flute on the mantelpiece is my way of acknowledging my wife's special talent. No doubt she will join us soon enough for a drink or two before you leave. Just be aware though, like many magicians, Hazel prefers not to discuss her magic trick after a show."