Just a Little Magic Ch. 06

- "I miss you, though." I said.

Danielle didn't answer right away.

"That's very sweet." she said. "I ... miss you, too."

We talked a bit, of inconsequential things. Her apprenticeship was going well. I missed her. She missed me.

After we'd both hung up, I was tempted to ... well, to rub one out. I was well on my way to coming when the door to the room opened, and Janine came in.

- "Sammy was missing you, over there." she said. "I don't think he can handle both of them all by himself."

- "Hmm."

- "Oh - sorry. Were you ...?"

Janine knew exactly what I'd been doing. I didn't apologize, or pretend otherwise. She didn't say anything else. Instead, my former lover went to the bathroom, where she spent 15 or 20 minutes getting ready for bed.

I'd taken the single, and left her the queen-sized bed. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Janine came straight towards me.

- "No, Janine." I said.

- "I was just coming to see if you were okay." she said. "Goodnight, Pete."

***

The next morning, Sammy had the mother of all hangovers. The two girls were still there - in similar condition. From the look of the three of them, they had all passed out. Sammy couldn't remember if anything had happened.

- "I don't think so, though." he said, sadly.

The next night, we did the first of two shows in Philadelphia. It wasn't our best work; sometimes you just don't have the same crisp timing, or the same good luck with your volunteers. For whatever reason, it was probably the weakest show of our tour so far.

Janine wanted to drown 'our sorrows', but Sammy was still sensitive about the mention of alcohol, and I was happy enough to make a late call to Danielle. We chatted for a while. She sounded tired. They were really getting their money's worth from her, in that apprenticeship program. I promised to call before our show tomorrow, rather than after.

We rebounded very nicely the next night in Philly. The only downer was that I hadn't been able to connect with Danielle before the show.

I called her the following morning, but she didn't pick up. It was well past the time she usually got out of bed, but ... she might've been busy. I didn't expect her to drop whatever she was doing just to answer my calls.

We moved on to Atlantic City. Sammy and Janine had that first night off, while I played in the poker room. Sammy dropped about $300 on the slots. I won about $14,000, which would cover most, if not all of our expenses. Half a day off, a night's sleep - then we did another show.

After that came Newark, New Jersey, Albany, New York, and finally Syracuse and Watertown. We re-crossed the border, and did one more show on Saturday night in Kingston, Ontario, where we were already building a following.

Somehow, those last six shows all went well. They might have been some of our best to date. But in between our performances, I was frantic with worry.

Danielle hadn't picked up any of my calls since Atlantic City. I sent her texts, and emails; no reply. I didn't really know any of her friends from school well enough to contact them. I even considered asking my Mom to get in touch with Danielle, but that wouldn't have helped.

She just wasn't answering. Then she stopped following our webpage, and unfriended me on Facebook. I sent her more texts, asking what was going on, if she was alright ...

- "Dude, I don't know ..." said Sammy.

Sammy drove the van for the last leg - I couldn't be trusted behind the wheel. We dropped Janine off, and then Sammy took me home, so that I could shower and change.

Danielle wouldn't be working - it was Sunday afternoon. I drove - carefully - and climbed the stairs to her apartment. My mind was a-whirl. I had no idea what to expect.

I knocked. I'd always knocked, rather than using her buzzer (it had a harsh sound).

Danielle opened the door. She looked like she'd been crying. There was no warmth at all in the glare she directed at me. I forgot everything I'd been planning to say.

- "Are ... are you alright?"

Danielle snorted. "Fine time to ask." she said, abruptly.

- "I don't understand." I said. "What happened?"

- "I told you before: one thing I wouldn't stand for was lying."

- "What?" I had to search my memory. No, I hadn't told her that magic was real, or that in a few years time I'd be trying to seduce 12 different women. I might have left out the fact that I hadn't really attended any of my college courses.

But those were acts of omission. I hadn't really lied to her. Had I?

"Danielle ... what's going on?"

- "We're done." she said.

I wasn't actively trying to read her mind. That didn't mean that I couldn't sense her surface thoughts, almost without concentrating. We'd been together for seven very passionate, very intense months.

But all I could feel was wave after wave of anger, indignation and resentment.

- "Everything okay, Dee?" asked a male voice. A guy appeared behind her. He was about my size - maybe a little heavier.

- "This is my ex." said Danielle. "He was just about to leave."

The guy's lip curled as he studied with an expression I can only describe as disgust. I'd seen that look before; it was usually reserved for when you stepped on a hairy, squishy caterpillar.

Danielle produced a plastic bag, and thrust it in my direction.

- "This is all of your stuff." she said. "Please don't bother me again."

She shut the door in my face.

I probably stood outside her door for a full minute, wondering what had just happened. I finally realized that the door wasn't going to open again, and began making my way - painfully - down the stairs.

It wasn't until I got into my car that I looked into the plastic bag. Two of my t-shirts. A pair of my socks. And the purple chemise she'd bought for Christmas.

***

- "I don't get it, Pete. What was she upset about?" asked Sammy.

- "I still don't know."

Like a best friend would, Sammy tried to contact Danielle, to get the whole story from her. But she wouldn't answer his calls, either.

I'm not sure why, but I suspected that Janine had said or done something. There had been that scene at my birthday party ... and it wasn't just my imagination: during the American tour, she had been pushing groupies at me. So I asked her straight out.

- "What did you do? What did you say to Danielle?"

Janine just shook her head.

- "Pete, we had a ... disagreement, back in March, at your house. I called her a few days later - you know, to mend fences. But she didn't want to talk to me. I swear to you: I haven't spoken to her since."

No, I couldn't read Janine's mind. But her words rang true.

It was heartbreaking. I was reminded of Michelle, of course. But Danielle breaking off with me was immeasurably worse.

Michelle had been a case of unfulfilled potential, or possibilities. With Danielle, I'd experienced the very best of realities. We were compatible in so many ways. I thought we were good for each other.

And I had absolutely no idea what had caused her to pull away. One day, we were talking on the phone, after a show ... and the next, she wouldn't answer my calls ...

***

Sammy had graduated. He could have decided to go back to school, or to begin looking for a job. Instead, he poured his energy into our webpage, and into helping Janine line up gigs for us.

He was working full-time. I insisted that we pay him as if he was. Janine and Lillian had no objection. If we weren't making enough money from performances, I could always play more poker.

I probably moped and wandered around in a daze for the better part of a month. Then I started concentrating on our shows. By the end of September, I realized that my celibacy wasn't helping anyone, either.

Okay, it's probably fairer to say that I went off the deep end in the other direction.

After a show in Toronto, I found myself chatting to a pretty, dark-haired woman. Yes, I read her mind. Yes, she wanted to add me to her trophy case, her Wall of Fame. Why not?

I went home with her, and used my magic to give her one of the best sexual experiences of her life. Her name was Laina, or Laila - for some reason, I wasn't thinking of Eric Clapton, so maybe it was Laina - and I brought her to several orgasms with my tongue and fingers.

She was thin, small-breasted, and looked nothing like Danielle. Still, I didn't want to take her in the missionary position - I wasn't ready to look her in the eyes in the most intimate of moments. Instead, I flipped her onto her stomach, and began to plunder her from behind.

That was a mistake. For me, I mean.

Laila (or Laina) was wet, and more than ready to be plundered. I just didn't feel any special connection with her. To make matters worse, as I was fucking her from behind, I got to study the tattoo on her lower back.

Tramp stamp. Okay, maybe she got it because she liked the way it looked in the mirror. Then I tried to imagine Laina standing with her back to the mirror, looking over her shoulder to admire her tattoo.

Bad decision. All it did was make me wonder how many guys had had the same view. How many admirers had shared the same perspective? It didn't matter, really: she most definitely wasn't Danielle.

I didn't wilt. I just kept fucking her, hoping that I might be able to come. For some reason, it just felt like it wasn't going to happen. Laila came again; I didn't.

On the bright side, she left me a really good review on Wonderlays.com: He brought me off twice, orally, then he fucked me for half an hour - literally, like 30 minutes. I came again. Absolute magic! (pun intended) ***** (5 stars)

Janine found the review, and happily showed it to me. Then she insisted that I give her a five-star performance.

***

After a show in Hamilton, I met a girl who reminded me of Danielle. She was a brunette, with a bad haircut and big boobs. She was a little shy, but reading her mind revealed that she was more than interested in a 'walk on the wild side' (her thoughts - not mine).

We had an energetic session. She got exactly what she'd been hoping for. I got just about what I'd expected.

Three nights later, I took a blonde named Candice home with me. She had brown eyes, and the most curious facial expressions. She insisted that I not

a) call her 'Candy'

b) come in her mouth

c) come inside her

She was, otherwise, spectacular. Candice had a trim body, and the puffiest nipples I'd ever seen. When they swelled up, her breasts almost doubled in size. Despite her stated restrictions, she was fantastic in bed.

I kept her for the better part of three days, feeding and bathing her regularly, before she told me that she had to get back to her boyfriend. I'd never thought to ask - and she'd never even thought of him at all - how was I supposed to know?

Sammy knew what I was up to, because I didn't come home for several nights, and because I kicked him out of the apartment for the three days that Candice was my guest.

Janine clearly approved. She was nicer to me than she had been in a while, and even welcomed me back into her bed a couple of times. She was still the hottest woman I'd ever been with, and she could still turn me on with a half-smile.

The sex between us was good. Sometimes, it was almost great. It just ... wasn't as incredible as in the early days, when she'd been 'training' me. Maybe it was because I knew that Janine and I would never be more than recreational bed partners. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting any more than that - and I don't think I wanted any more than that.

We did a show in Montreal, where Janine used a mixture of English and French for our audience.

- "Quelle carte a-t-elle choisi?" Janine asked me. (What card did she choose?)

- "Pardon?" I answered - in English.

Janine put her hands on her hips, and glared at me in mock annoyance.

- "Really? You can read minds, mais tu ne me comprends pas quand je t'parle?" (but you don't understand me when I talk to you?)

That got a laugh, but I earned an ever bigger one when I was slow in revealing a volunteer's card.

- "What's taking you so long?" asked my lovely partner.

- "It's not my fault, Janine," I said, "they're thinking in French!"

After a really good show, Janine led us to a club where things were hopping. It was a big place, packed with people.

- "I have a challenge for you." Janine told me.

- "Oh?"

- "I want you to pull two girls." she said. "One for Sammy."

It occurred to me that Janine could have found two girls in no time. After all, she'd done it twice on our American tour. But I didn't really want to say no this time. Sammy deserved it, after all the hard work he'd put into our show.

- "Cool place!" yelled Sammy, right into my ear. "You really think we have a chance with girls like these!"

I knew what he meant. French-Canadian girls like to get dressed up - or dolled up. The club seemed to be crawling with hotties that looked to be well out of our league. But Sammy was thinking of the old Batman and Robin.

- "Shut up for a bit, Sammy!" said Janine. "Let Pete work. He's trying to get you laid."

- "What? Really? No shit?"

- "He's scoping the room for you as we speak."

- "No way. Holy shit! Hey - what about that blonde? Over by the window?"

Janine laughed. "Seriously? Sammy, you'd have a hard time bagging that one if you were Brad Pitt. And last time I checked ... you weren't."

- "What about her friend?"

Janine laughed even harder. "In your dreams."

Sammy was undeterred. "Okay, what about the one in the black dress. Right over there."

- "Sammy - how high can you jump?" asked Janine.

- "What?"

- "What's your vertical leap? Because if you can't clear nine meters, then we should think about lowering the bar just a bit, don't you think?"

- "But ... I thought ..." Sammy looked bewildered.

- "You thought what?"

- "Can't he do ... like, mind control?"

Janine laughed. I had to smile, too. I was checking out the women in the club, but I was also following their conversation - which wasn't hard to do, because they were yelling at each other right next to my ear.

- "He can read minds - not control them." shouted Janine. He can't make someone jump off a building, or eat broken glass. Or make them have sex with you."

I found a decent-looking pair, but only one of them was interested in me. Sammy wasn't on either girl's radar yet. I was trying to figure out how to approach them, when Janine jogged my elbow.

- "Ten o'clock." she said.

I followed her directions. There they were.

Two very attractive young women, and they were looking right at me.

I immediately moved towards them - slowly, though, so that I could pick up surface thoughts. I concentrated on the one who was staring hardest.

Their names were Helene and Ginette. Helene was a slender cutie with long light brown hair and blue eyes. Her friend Ginette was a bit taller, with short blonde hair. They'd been at our show, and Helene was absolutely ecstatic to find me here, in this club.

She'd been too shy, or too hesitant to approach me after the performance, but she was determined not to let me escape this time, even if it meant taking me to the bathroom here in the club, and fucking me in one of the toilet stalls.

Sometimes, mind-reading provides way more information than I need.

Ginette was a true friend. She knew how badly her friend wanted me. She wasn't sure yet what her part in the night's proceedings would be, but she was prepared to fuck Janine, or Sammy - or both - to give her best friend a clear shot at me. Ginette was prepared to be a true wingman.

- "Je vous ai vu." I said. (I saw you). "You were both at the show."

- "Oui, Monsieur le Magicien." said Helene. "You were formidable." What a great word, in French. It can mean fantastic, tremendous, super, wonderful ... as well as the English meanings of formidable: mighty, powerful.

- "You saw us?" asked Ginette.

- "How could I not? Deux femmes si belles ..."

Ginette smiled. She was still willing to take one for the team, to help her friend, but she was now also wondering if she might be able to ask for seconds with the magician.

- "Your show ... it was wonderful." said Helene, reclaiming my attention.

- "I'm so glad you enjoyed it." I said. "My only regret is that you weren't called up on stage as a volunteer. I would have loved to read your mind."

Helene blushed. She was embarrassed to think that I might be reading her thoughts right now, which were of a highly salacious nature.

- "Perhaps you could." suggested Ginette, the loyal wingman.

- "I wish I could." I said. "Mais pas ici ... il y a le bruit ... la foule ..." (but not here - there's the noise, the crowd)

"Unless ..."

They were ready for my suggestion. Even before I said it, the two lovelies were prepared to leap on it. When I said the word 'notre hotel', Helene answered for both of them.

- "Oui, certainement - c'est possible."

When I returned to my friends, Janine was beaming triumphantly, as if her prized student had just scored a Rhodes Scholarship. Sammy just looked amazed.

- "Really? Seriously?"

Janine somehow convinced the bartender to sell us a bottle of sparkling wine at a little over cost (and probably a tenth of what it would have cost us if we'd tried to order it through room service) - never mind that what he was doing was completely illegal.

We got back to our hotel, scavenged for ice, and tried to calm Sammy down.

- "Just follow Pete's lead." said Janine.

For a brief moment, I got nervous, too. It took the girls a long time to find our room. But Helene and Ginette did arrive, bearing a bottle of champagne, a bottle of wine, and a case of 12 beer. Helene also had a dozen condoms in her purse (ah, the benefits of mind-reading).

Sammy was quivering like a greyhound, and even I was feeling it. Janine chatted with the girls, to put them at ease, and we all had a glass of sparkling wine.

There were two queen-sized beds. The two girls sat on one, while Sammy sat facing them. I was standing, filling drinks, playing host. Janine was sitting by the window, in a comfortable armchair.

- "How do you do it?" asked Ginette. She was referring to my mentalism.

- "Would you like to see?" I asked.

- "Oh, oui!" they both said, in chorus.

I had them choose playing cards, and correctly identified them. Then I told them their birthdays, and their social security numbers. That was just a warm up. I finally asked them to think of one of their fantasies. The results were ... fascinating.

I approached Helene, and leaned close to her ear.

- "Ce soir." I whispered. (tonight) "Ca se passera." (it will happen) She gasped.

Then I went to Ginette, and whispered in her ear.

- "C'est toi que je desire." (it's you that I want)

She shivered.

Janine stood up. "You guys have good time. It's time for me to say bonsoir."

- "You don't have to go." I said. "In fact, Helene would really like it if you stayed ... and watched."

Helene gasped. As far as she knew, I'd somehow guessed her fantasy - and now everyone else knew. She was incredibly turned on, to be exposed in this way.

But I was also curious to see Janine's reaction. I remembered my dalliance with her friend, Eva. Janine had been terrified that Eva might think she was into threesomes; instead, she'd suggested to her friend that she was a voyeur.

Was that simply the best excuse she could come up with, under pressure? Or was there a grain of truth ...?

- "I suppose that I could watch for a while." said Janine. "I'll need to freshen my drink, though."

Helene was trembling with anticipation. Sammy just looked at me, eyes wide.

- "Is this really happening?"

- "I think so." I said. "It's really up to Ginette, though." I looked at her; she clearly remembered what I'd said to her. She wasn't about to abandon her friend, either - Helene might never forgive her.