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Real Magicians Work Their Magic Blindfolded

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John stood before a stage magician's table in his living room. Laid out with a blindfold, a top hat, and glittering crystal ball, and a deck of cards, it was prepared for magic tricks galore. “Lady and gentlecat, welcome to the show!” John announced, bowing before the crowd that was gathered before him – his darling wife Rose in her favourite black-and-purple robe, and their esteemed pet Dr. Meowgon Spengler. Rose clapped for him; Meowgon licked his paw and John declared the gesture good enough.

“Today, I will be pulling a bunny out of a box—er, a hat. And I will be doing it...blindfolded!”

Rose was almost able to make her gasp genuine. “Blindfolded? Such a feat would be impossible!”

John snickered. “Impossible for some,” he said, “but not I! Behold!”

He swiftly tied the blindfold around his eyes, tugging it tight. Taking a moment to steady himself, he reached forwards and grabbed the hat, turning it upside down and spinning it around to show the audience that there was, indeed, no bunny inside it. Placing it back on the table, he waved his hands around as if to suggest he was casting a spell, and then with a flourish he...knocked a hand into the table and stumbled over. The table and it's contents came crashing to the floor, Meowgon yowled and jumped over the couch, the crystal ball rolled into the kitchen, and a stuffed bunny flopped down onto the carpet.

Rose started clapping again.

“Har har, Rose,” John said, groaning and staggering to his feet. He threw the blindfold aside and stared at the mess. “I guess I still need a little bit of practice before I'm ready to perform for anyone else.”

“A 'little'? I'd have chosen a less generous word, myself.”

John righted the table and picked up the scattered deck of cards, grumbling. “Hey, you're my wife, aren't you supposed to be encouraging me instead of insulting me?”

Rose bent over to pick up the crystal ball and replace it on the table. “I wasn't aware you had revoked my teasing license. What paperwork do I have to fill out to get it back?”

“Nah, there's way too much red tape involved. I'll just give it back for free, like any loving husband would.” John smiled rakishly.

“I suppose I owe you a little encouragement, then.” Rose leaned forwards and planted a kiss on his lips, smiling. “How's that?”

John nodded. “A few more?”

She leaned in for another, lips warm and soft against his. He swept her up into a hug, dotting her with kisses on the lips and cheeks, and together they fell back onto the couch. Rose laughed softly and smiled as she rested atop him. She sought another kiss, this time flitting her tongue out to meet his. Their kisses grew more and more passionate, and soon John was cupping her butt in his hands, squeezing gently, and she was rubbing up against him. His erection came almost immediately, pressing against Rose’s leg.

Her face flushed for a moment, and her smile crinkled into a foxy grin. “Looks like you need more support than I thought. Why don't you come meet me in the…'encouragement' room?”

“Oh, come on Rose, that one was a really bad one. Like, unequivocally terrible, is what it was.”

Rose shrugged. “You have been responsible for far worse.”

“Okay, maybe.” John let go of her and she made her way to the bedroom immediately, sashaying her hips as she walked as if to say, ‘come along, my dear’. John needed no prompting; he got up to follow her immediately.

Their bedroom was, much like their rooms when they were younger, a cluttered mishmash of their varied interests; books and scraps of writing littered Rose’s nightstand, John’s side of the room was covered in movie posters, and there were magic and prank supplies trailing out of an overfull chest in the corner. Even their bed was a fusion of their respective styles; Rose had selected a rather gothic looking four-poster bed frame, and John had decked it out with spectral bedsheets, chosen for their nostalgia value.

Normally upon entering the room, John would take a moment to fondly regard his posters or sneak a peek at Rose’s latest writing project, but this time he was greeted by a far more enthralling sight: Rose lying nearly supine on the bed with her sash loosened and her robe hanging open just the slightest bit. She was wearing lacy black lingerie and a mischievous smile.

“Come, John. Sit down in front of me, please. I have an idea.”

John stepped forwards warily and climbed onto the bed, sitting down before her. “This isn’t going to be like the last idea, is it? My neck was sore for a week!”

“No, no, nothing like that. Just sit still for a moment.”

Rose undid her sash and leaned forward, holding it up towards John’s face. He was confused for a split second, before realizing she intended to blindfold him. John caught a quick glance of her half-naked body before she wrapped her sash around his head, just tight enough to stay up and obscure his vision without hurting him. John fidgeted and squirmed, unused to the lack of sight even after hours practicing it for his magic tricks; Rose comforted him with a quick kiss on the lips.

“You know, Rose, I’m not really sure this is a great idea.”

“Hm?” Rose’s voice was light and teasing already; she enjoyed having him at her mercy. “And why do you say that? I think it will make for great practice.”

“You saw the mess I made back in the living room. Do you really want me to make a mess of you, too?”

Rose giggled and started to say, ‘of course’.

John flushed red and grimaced. “I mean…you know what I meant! A bad mess!”

“John, everything will be fine. I will keep everything under control; unwieldy though you may be, your beloved co-captain will steer you through the murk of blindness ‘til your ship sets home at port.”

“Is port a euphemism for vagina?”

“Yes.”

John grinned. “So, uh, what am I supposed to do first? Wave my hands around and hope I cop a boob? Can I grope you or something to get up to date on your appearance, would that be weird?”

 Rose chuckled. “Sit tight, John, and let your assistant work her own magic first.” Her hand trailed down his waist, curving over his stomach and slipping into his pants. Her hand curled around his erection from outside his underwear; he was throbbing hard, pressing against the fabric. Satisfied by his condition, she withdrew her hand immediately.

John kept fidgeting about; he didn't know where to put his hands, afraid to knock into Rose by accident, so he let them rest behind him for balance. Rose drew back for a moment and he was alone. “Rose--”

“Shh. I'm building suspense.”

There was silence in the room, punctuated only by the sound of Rose shuffling around somewhere nearby. He felt the mattress shift slightly as her weight moved about, and she positioned herself behind him. Her lips met his neck and she kissed it, sucking on his skin for a moment before pulling away. Her arms slipped around his waist and one slowly sank down, hand slipping beneath his boxers and pulling them down. Free from its restraints, his erection bounced upwards; Rose chuckled softly and gingerly wrapped her fingers around it. She began pumping it slowly, up and down, up and down, kissing and licking at his neck all the while.

John’s breath grew heavy and his face flushed as she worked, her hand sliding along his shaft ever so slowly. Every now and then she would punctuate the slow stroking with a few sudden, quick pumps, but then it was back to the slow and torturous pace. Her lips pressed against his skin, tugging at his neck, her teeth brushing against it. She brushed his hair away where necessary, leaned in, suckled on the skin a while and then pulled away. Every now and then she would lean in at just the right angle, and John could feel her breasts pushing up against his back.

Rose was silent as she worked, and with his vision restricted, John focused his hearing. She drew slow, steady breaths, chuckling to herself every now and then when his hips jolted upwards or he gasped to himself. He could hear her lips smacking against his neck, hear the sound of her tugging and licking and kissing him. From below him came the sound of her stroking him, her movements quickening over time, little sloppy and wet noises sounding as arousal bubbled from the tip of his erection.

The noises and the sensations and the arousal all started to swim around in his mind as he neared orgasm. “Rose,” he grunted after a while, “I think…I think I’m going to come, soon.”

“Oh? Excellent.” Rose wiggled her fingers gleefully and began stroking him with renewed vigor. “Be sure to say ‘when’, John.”

Her thumb traced over the tip of his head and he shivered; her hand pumped his shaft and he nearly gasped. He could feel her lips pressing to the back of his neck, nipping at him, leaving little red marks as she went. Rose scraped her teeth against the nape of his neck, wet it with quick kisses and then bit down softly, teeth sinking in and pulling back quick as they came. John flinched slightly, body shaking; she took it as a sign to move even faster, wrist flicking up and down, fingers wrapped nice and light around his length. She moved to the other side of his neck, kissed again, bit again, and he found himself groaning with pleasure.

“Rose…I’m…I’m gonna…”

She kissed his neck one final time, brushed her mouth against the very back of it and then pulled away. She slowed her strokes to a crawl, languidly sliding her fingers up and down along his shaft, soon pulling her hand away as well.

“Hey, what the fuck?” John said, squirming slightly. He was hot and throbbing and his body was shaking and…and she was just gone!

“Patience, my dear.” Rose said; he could hear her shifting around again, moving in front of him. “Surely you did not expect me to reward you so quickly? I’m going to have a little fun, first.”

She giggled, and John frowned. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that…”

More movement; an article of clothing or two hit the floor with a flat whump. Rose clambered into his lap immediately, pushing against his erection. John took a moment to size things up: he could feel himself rubbing against fabric and guessed that her panties were still on, but her breasts were bare and pressing up against his chest. Rose leaned back into his neck, kissing it from the front this time, nipping at it and chuckling as the flesh reddened. She wrapped her arms around his back as best she could, and shook her hips, grinding against him.

“You know,” she mused, between kisses, “Had I known you would grow so big, I might have rethought our relationship. My arms barely fit around you.”

“Oh, come on! You know you like my manly girth. Like, most of it is muscle, anyway, so I don’t see why you’re complaining!”

Rose took a moment to run her hands along his arms before embracing him again. “I concede a point to you. Now come on, and kiss me.”

She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, and he took her into his arms, easily holding her close to him. The kisses were soft at first, but quickly grew more passionate, her tongue flitting out to meet his, her breaths coming hot and heavy between each smooch. Rose kept grinding against him, rubbing herself along his shaft, and John could feel a growing wetness beneath her panties, spreading bit by bit as she became more and more aroused. Her heart was beating fast and so was his, and he could feel an orgasm welling up inside him again…

…and once again, Rose slowed and stopped.

“Seriously?” he griped, and she chuckled again.

“Don’t you want the real thing, John? The warmth and the wetness, the tight inner walls enveloping your throbbing dick, sucking you in, driving you wild?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m starting to suspect that you don’t even have a normal vagina!” John said, with an exaggerated frown. “You’ve been leading me on, you are just some...some blonde succubus thing with a portal to hell in your crotch, trying to entice the poor gullible ghost hunter into having his life energy fucked out of him. Are you doing that, Rose? Is there a portal to hell in your crotch? Because I think there is one.”

“John, you've seen my vagina.”

“Yeah, okay, but you could have faked it. Just saying.”

John heard Rose shuffling around somewhere in front of him. She tossed her panties aside and crawled towards him, hands pushing him down onto his back. She straddled him, sliding herself up along his dick, rubbing her folds against it.

“Does this feel like the gateway to a hellish realm to you?”

John bit down on his lip and fought the urge to tilt his hips upwards. “Uh, no, it feels like a vagina. A really good one, too! Maybe you aren't a demon...or maybe that's just what you want me to believe!”

Rose shifted about atop him. “You'll have your answer eventually...” she said, ominously. Her voice seemed to be nearer to him than before.

John tried to speak up in response but she locked him in a kiss; her tongue flicked out to meet his once more, her body shaking, grinding against him. With every passing second she seemed to be wetter, hotter, brushing her folds up and down along him. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, erect nipples sliding up and down along his skin.

“Does that feel good?” she asked, and he grunted out a yes. “Excellent.”

 Rose increased the pace, rolling her hips back and forth quick as she could, soaking him with her wetness. Every now and then his tip would just barely push inside her and he’d feel as though he was about to erupt with pleasure, but no matter how badly he wanted to sink inside her, she would keep grinding and he would slip out. He started squirming, heartbeats and breaths coming fast, the all-too-familiar feeling of impending orgasm bubbling up once again.

“Rose, I...I'm gonna...”

She stopped moving. His dick twitched beneath her, desperate for the release she was denying him.

Seriously?” John said. “This is, like, the third time! I am all for having sex, Rose, but if your idea of sex is never letting me get off then I'mphhh--!”

Rose had dragged herself up across his chest while he was complaining, and before he could figure out what she was doing, she silenced him by forcing his mouth between her legs. The scent of sex was heavy in the air; John experimentally flicked out his tongue and found himself tasting her. Rose's breath hitched and he was sure she was smiling devilishly.

“I thought you were working magic, John. What kind of husband prioritizes his own satisfaction over that of his beloved partner?”

John was glad she couldn't hear exactly what he grumbled under his breath about the kind of wife she was, but the impatient wiggle of her hips suggested that she had an inkling. She was a good wife overall, he supposed, and he could deign to pleasure her for a while. (He would have to anyways, he knew, if he wanted her to finish him off.)

He reached up and his hands waved about for a bit before they found their target: two soft, round, and very squeezable cheeks. He pulled her close to him and started lapping at her, dragging his tongue roughly up and down her muff. She was soaking wet and he could easily dart between her folds with his tongue, flicking up along them, lavishing her in attention. He planted messy kisses all along the lips and moved up to her clit, tracing circles around it with his tongue, gently prodding it, dotting it with little suckling kisses. She gasped and tilted her hips forwards, grinding against his mouth, urging him onwards, and he complied. He gave her smooch after sloppy smooch, slid his tongue up and down, slathered her in affection, and soon he could tell by her ragged breaths and shaking body that she was close to orgasm. Mere moments later, she vocalized what he already knew:

“Mn...yes, keep going, I'm nearly there...”

And then he stopped.

“John, why...oh.” Rose was silent for a moment, body still quivering, and then: “You are a terrible, cruel man.”

“Yeah, because you totally didn't do that to me, first!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

John lashed his tongue against her clit.

“Ah! I…okay, give me a moment.”

Reluctantly, Rose lifted herself up and slid back along John’s body, until she was hovering just above him. After a moment, John could feel her folds brush against his tip, but she did not lower herself, choosing instead to roll her hips back and forth, rubbing against him.

“Well?” John asked.

“Well what?”

“Look,” John said, and though he tried to sound intimidating his voice wavered. “I have waited very patiently and I think it's about time you relented.”

“Oh? But shouldn't an aspiring magician like you know the magic words, John?” Rose hummed. She was still clutching onto him, circling her hips above him and teasing her folds against his head.

“Really, Rose? Really?” John groaned. His heart was pounding, his blood boiling, and he refused to wait another second. “Ugh...please, you she-witch! Please let me have sex with you!”

“We already are having sex, John. I believe you're looking for the term 'penetrate'.” Rose said, and she laughed, giving her best imitation of a cackling sorceress. “And...please? Did you really expect such a pedestrian word to work?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“That's more like it,” she whispered, and then she finally let herself plunge down on him, taking in his entire length at once. John could hear her gasping for breath, feel her arms wrap around him and hold him close. She squeezed down on him, hot and tight and wet, and John’s hips bucked at the sudden, sharp pleasure. She reeled and a soft moan escaped her, and then she pushed him onto his back and laid herself atop him, breasts pressing into his chest and her lips against his neck. She lifted her hips, shook them, and dipped back down onto him. Electricity crackled through his nerves and he could feel her heart beating; after teasing each other for so long their bodies were begging for release.

‘John,’ Rose gasped, shaking her hips, and he gasped her name in turn. Unsatisfied with the position he rolled her onto her back with a grunt, and she was clinging to him in an instant, legs wrapped around his back as best as she could manage. She was warm and slick and with his bucking hips he slid in and out, in and out, easy and quick. She gasped out an ‘oh, god,’ and her body quivered and tightened up, muscles going tense. She pressed her lips to his and moaned into the kiss as she came, body shivering. John could feel a pressure building in him; the taste of Rose’s tongue and the feel of her body shot through his mind, spurring him to orgasm. His hips swung forwards and he buried himself deep inside her, pumping her full, breath coming in quick gasps until his climax began to fade.

“About damn time,” John gasped, sliding out from inside her and grinning.

“Your words wound me!” Rose said, feigning hurt. “You act as though the experience wasn’t enhanced at all by the wait! Clearly, I am still an experienced succubus…”

“Aha! I knew it!”

The two of them giggled, and then lay in silence for a moment, enjoying the afterglow and their warm embrace. With the smell and feel of sex lingering in the air, they began to kiss again, and again, dotting each other’s lips and cheeks and necks in little smooches.

“It did enhance the experience, though, didn’t it?” Rose asked, after a while.

“Heh, yeah. I guess it did.”

John felt her hands gingerly wrap around his head, and she undid the blindfold, pulling it away. He squinted, vision blurry as it adjusted to the light, and Rose’s smiling face slid into view. She darted her head forwards and kissed him again.

“Perhaps this experience will motivate you to learn your blindfolded tricks? For that matter, perhaps it will help you adapt to moving around while blindfolded?”

John grinned. “Only if you promise we can do it again.”

Rose examined the sash in her hands carefully, and gave him a wry smile. “I think that can be arranged.”

 


 

It took three weeks (and many a toppled table) for John to finally perfect his first blindfolded trick. Rose and Meowgon were in attendance again as he demonstrated his newfound ability, magically pulling his cherished stuffed rabbit from a hat as though it were second nature to him. He was greeted with a soft ‘meow’ and genuine applause from Rose, and he bowed, satisfied.

The key to performing blindfolded, he had found, was to detect the slightest subtleties; sound, smell, the precise movement of your hands and body at all times, even the air around you. With his honed senses, John could tell by the gentle swish of a robe and the soft, flowery scent of her favourite shampoo that Rose was approaching. He stretched out his arms and surely enough she was wrapping him in a hug a moment later.

“Congratulations on the successful act,” she said. “I believe such an accomplishment deserves a reward, don’t you?”

“You’re sure you aren’t a succubus?” John asked, and they laughed, and she pressed her lips to his.