by Blue, A. J.
I hope he’s taking me somewhere with lots of people, I think.
The idea of being alone with Marcus now, still makes me a little uneasy. If I interpet his looks correctly, he wishes me straight to hell right now. He’s so emotionally and physically charged at the moment, it’s definitely better not to be alone with him. It could be dangerous for my lower bits.
Once more, Marcus snorts angrily, then he straightens his shoulders. “Now is not the time for your silly games,” he says. “When we get to our destination I want us to be nice to each other. We should just about manage that. I’m going to introduce you as an old college friend. Not a word about the apartment or anything related to it. Got it?”
I nod obediently.
So we won’t be alone, I think, relieved. But it will unfortunately be more difficult to check my emails that way. I really hope Nicole will be in touch.
Soon after we stop in front of a large villa. The surrounding grounds are huge and include a soccer field, swings, climbing frames and sandpits.
What is this place? A school? A kindergarten?
“Is this it?” I ask in surprise and point to the building. “A school? What are we doing here?”
“It’s not a school.” Marcus shakes his head. “Follow me. We have to hurry!”
He gets out of the car and rushes over to the villa. I sprint after him, a little at a loss. Whatever is he planning?
“Hurry up, Kate. We’re late. We still have to get changed!” Marcus urges.
Get changed, I think. My face is one big question mark.
Marcus walks around the building and stops in front of a small wooden door.
The back entrance? I wonder. Or the gateway to hell?
“Just a sec,” says Marcus and roots around in his pants pockets. “Ha! There it is.” He triumphantly produces a key and unlocks the door with it.
Why does he have a key to this place? And why do we have to get changed? Is this another dubious sex club? With play equipment in the garden? Surely that would even be too weird for Marcus. Curious and bewildered I step inside.
We find ourselves in a kind of basement room with two other doors branching off it. In the next room I see tricycles and scooters. One of the corners is full of toys for the sandpit and nets with soccer and basketballs are hanging from the ceiling.
So is it a kindergarten after all? At least it’s not some perverted sex joint, I think, slightly relieved. But what could Marcus possible want to do with me in a crèche?
Marcus purposefully opens the door to his right and gestures me to follow him.
This room is so piled up with stuff, we can barely turn around. Colorful arts and craft materials, toys, board games and old story books everywhere. Three large wooden crates take up the entire back wall. Marcus opens one of them.
“Right, here it is. I knew we still kept them somewhere!” He takes a black top hat, a cape, a wig and a glittering costume from the chest.
“Here,” he says and hands me the costume. “Put that on!”
Puzzled, I look at it. “What is all this?” I ask. “Are we going to play theatre? Or are you planning some deranged sex number all dressed up?”
“Neither. Although I wouldn’t mind some deranged sex number,” he chuckles. “Magnus the Magnificent requires your help. As my assistant!
“ Magnus the Magnificent?”
Marcus puts the top hat on and takes a bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Magnus the magnificent magician.”
I have to laugh. Marcus’s pretend accent sounds really funny.
“Seriously, Kate,” he continues. “I do actually need your help.”
I quizzically raise my eyebrows.
“This is a children’s home and today they are having a party,” Marcus explains. Daniel, who usually does the magician’s act rang me earlier. He had little accident. Nothing serious, but he can’t perform. The magician is always a highlight for the kids. That’s why we have to step in!”
“We?” I have to smile. I hadn’t expected our trip to turn out like this. Performing a magic act with Marcus sounds like fun. I like kids and have no problem entertaining them. I only hope that Marcus, or more correctly “Magnus” really has a few magnificent tricks up his sleeve. I don’t fancy embarrassing myself in front of the children.
“Alright. I’ll be your assistant,” I agree and grab the glittering costume. “But you owe me, pal!”
“Thank you!” Marcus seems relieved. Then he grins cheekily. “I’ll express my gratitude later.”
I just roll my eyes.
“Do you often help out in this place?” I enquire while I get changed. “Or why do you have a key?”
Marcus suddenly becomes very serious. “I work here as a volunteer and also support the home financially. The children are very close to my heart. I know every one of them.”
“That’s great,” I say while buttoning up my costume and arranging my hair in a bun. As disagreeable as he is sometimes, I’m really impressed with his dedication to the children’s cause.
I should use our time alone together to find out more about him, I think.
I make my next question sound as casual as I can. “Why did you get involved with this particular place?”
Marcus seems to ponder my question. “Liam is right,” he says then. “You really do ask too many questions. Our women aren’t usually that nosy!”
I sigh.
“But I’m not one of your ‘normal’ women. Sex alone isn’t everything. I’m interested in you as people. I simply want to know who I’m dealing with. What’s so wrong with that?”
Marcus looks straight into my eyes as if he’s searching for an answer. The way he looks at me makes me shiver a little, but I don’t interrupt our eye contact and stare right back.
Several seconds later, the corners of his mouth start to twitch.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met such a tenacious little bitch,” he remarks, visibly amused. “Let’s make a deal. If you help me with the show and we don’t embarrass ourselves in front of the kids, I’ll answer some of your questions. And I’ll also ask you some. Quid pro quo. Deal?”
“Right,” I nod.
“Okay. Break a leg!” Marcus says and presses a box with magic utensils into my hands. “We don’t have much time to prepare the stage. The show’s supposed to start in fifteen minutes.”
39
“I know how you do that. I know. I know...”
Jesus Christ, would you ever shut up, I think and throw an evil look at the little pain in the ass sitting in the front row.
Marcus is trying his best to entertain the roughly thirty kids who are huddled around the little stage in the dining room. He does actually know a few conjuring tricks. He’s already successfully pulled off some with playing cards, with a banknote and a ballpoint pen and with some coins. Fortunately my part is limited to handing him his gadgets and removing them again. I don’t have to talk. Although I would like to right now. The little wise guy in the front really gets on my nerves. Marcus is unfazed by the pint-sized heckler. Unceremoniously he pulls the pest onto the stage and asks him to assist with a new trick. I’m quite bowled over by how well Marcus handles the kids. He now has the little man positively eating from the palm of his hand. No more grief from that quarter!
Marcus seems to have a special bond with children. So why is he so strange when it comes to women? Why can’t he be as uncomplicated around the females of the species?
The Marcus on the stage has little in common with the nerve-racking ladykiller I know. He seems relaxed and is apparently enjoying himself. I much prefer Magnus the magician to Marcus my macho roomie.
I wish that he would magically transform himself and stay just a nice and funny.
Marcus performs another five tricks, then he taps me with his wand.
“And now you can choose a song my lovely assistant Kate will sing for you. I’ve just changed her into a pop star. Who knows a song?”
What? I think. He can’t do that! I h
ate singing!
There go the sympathy points he has just collected.
“Are you out of your tiny mind?” I whisper. “I can’t sing!”
“Come on,” he whispers back. “We have to improvise. I’m out of tricks. It’s your turn!”
“Forget it!” I growl under my breath.
“Right. Who can think of a song then?” Marcus asks, ignoring my protests.
At least twenty little hands shoot up.
Oh no, I think, horrified. He can’t do that to me.
I’ve hated singing ever since elementary school. I blame my music teacher at the time who believed that everyone can sing and forced me to perform for the assembled parents. But I simply can’t do it. Never could. I do hit the right notes, but unfortunately always half a second too late, so my efforts sound pretty off-key and unbelievably terrible. The pained looks on the parents’ faces left me in no doubt about the matter.
I enjoyed assisting Marcus with his little magic act. But expecting me to fill in now with a song is asking too much.
“Madison, what would you like Kate to sing?” Marcus points to a little girl in the front row. “
“Can she sing ‘We Will Rock You’? I think that’s real cool!”
“Of course she can!” Marcus grins and taps me again with his wand.
“Abracadabra, Kate is now a pop star!” he shouts.
He’s referring to me in the third person, I think indignantly.
“I don’t really know the lyrics,” I hiss under my breath.
“Katie! Katie!” Marcus ignores me and claps his hands.
“Katie! Katie!” the kids join in and look at me eagerly.
I glare at Marcus. What an asshole. I bail him out and he shows me up for my efforts. There’s no way out now.
Spontaneously, I have an idea. Little Madison couldn’t have picked a better song.
“Right,” I say, “but I need your help! I start and then you copy what I do. Okay?” I start tapping the beat of ‘We Will Rock You’ by slapping my thighs twice and then clapping my hands once.
The kids enthusiastically join in.
Ha! I think, satisfied.
With all that noise in the dining room nobody notices the wrong lyrics or my lack of talent.
When I’m done, I take a bow.
The ensuing applause makes me smile. Phew, I think and mentally thank Madison for her song choice.
“And now,” I say quickly, before Magnus the Magnificent decides to make me sing another song, “Magnus will magically transform someone else. Who’s next?”
“You are fucking impossible!” I angrily stare at Marcus.
After he transformed another few kids into pop stars and various animals, we successfully ended our performance. The children are outside with their minders, engrossed in a treasure hunt while we tidy up.
“Why are you so annoyed? I think we were great. The kids seemed to like it!”
“The kids might have. I certainly didn’t! I hate singing. Especially in front of an audience. And I hate when someone forces me to do something against my will!”
“Oh, really?” Marcus replies while he’s folding his cape. “I believe it’s the only way to stop you being so uptight. Whenever you are forced to...”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing!” I interrupt him, disgusted. “I don’t have to listen to your insults!”
“You are so cute when you’re angry, do you know that?” Marcus grins impishly. “Teasing you is great fun!”
I never considered myself to be a violent person, but I’m slowly starting to change my mind. I’d love to strangle Marcus. But for once he seems to notice that he’s about to go too far when he puts his arm around my shoulders and whispers in my ear: “Let’s go home. I’ll answer some of your questions because you were such a star. And then I want you naked!”
“I can think of a way you can make up for your insolence,” I say. I’m sitting on the kitchen table, slurping a delicious latte macchiato and look at Marcus’s lovely back. He’s standing at the stove to magically produce a snack to fortify us. I’m not allowed to help. I quite like that. After my demanding kiddie animation number, I deserve a rest.
“And that is?” Marcus wants to know.
“As much as I enjoy admiring your back, it would be even nicer if you took your shirt off!”
“Okay. You really think you’ve earned it?”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing!” I exclaim. “You should actually take off your pants as well why you’re at it!”
“So you’re into scantily clad chefs?” Marcus chuckles.
“Is this already the promised questions and answers round?” I want to know.
“No, let’s eat first!” Marcus says and stirs one of the saucepans.
“So when are going to start taking your clothes off? I think you’re far too slow,” I grin naughtily.
“Are you serious? You want me to be the ‘Naked Chef’?”
“I do! I sang for you earlier. And I never usually do that!”
“Right so! This is for you helping me out!” Marcus feeds something into his iPad. The ultimate strip song. Joe Cocker’s ‘You can leave your hat on’ sounds from the speakers. I have to laugh. Occasionally, Marcus does actually have a sense of humor.
He starts moving to the rhythm of the music. Very, very slowly he lifts up his shirt and exposes his sixpack. He looks at me so wickedly, I feel all hot.
Marcus already proved that he can dance at our joint date with Liam. But who would have thought that he can strip just as well? My girlfriends would throw a fit if they could see what’s happening here. Marcus could easily compete with Channing Tatum. And that guy’s really good. His strip number in ‘Magic Mike’ has delighted us girls many times. And I’ve someone like him right here in front of me. Brilliant!
Now Marcus is standing before me with his bare chest.
Well, purely optical, he really is an outstanding representative of his species! As long as he keeps his trap shut and dances like that, I have no objection to spending more time alone with him, I think and sip at my coffee. Suddenly, my mouth feels all dry.
“Let’s do this properly,” Marcus mumbles, walks over to the fridge and takes something out.
“You can’t be serious...” I comment when I see what he’s holding.
“Of course I am,” he grins and hands me an aerosol of spray cream. “You’ve booked the whole nine yards.”
“Do you do this often?” I ask and take the container from him.
“Only for a select audience,” he replies and pushes a pert strand of hair from his face. “What are you waiting for? Let’s start,” he says and parks his delicious body right in front of me.
I don’t need any more encouragement. As a spectator in a strip bar, the spray cream number always makes me feel embarrassed. But here, with a well-built man all to myself, I find it pretty sexy.
I shake the aerosol and spray a little of the sweet, white foam onto Marcus’s naked chest. I spread it around a bit with my fingertips and then lick it off with relish.
Marcus watches me putting my index finger into my mouth to lick off the rest of the cream. I suck my finger deliberately slow and start imagining all sorts of things.
“You should take the rest of your clothes off, too,” I purr. “I know a spot where this tastes even better.”
“Is that right?” Marcus takes hold of my hand and now also sucks on my index finger.
Yum.
“Take them off!” I command and point at his pants.
Marcus starts unzipping his jeans with a grin. His tight, black boxers reveal a slight erection.
It’s presumably better if I keep my relations with Marcus on a purely sexual level, I think.
I really like him that way. His body and his style of dancing coupled with his cheeky grin make me real horny.
Pretending to be indignant, I raise my eyebrows and point to his boxers. “What’s that? Off with them!”
He shakes his head
. “Nope! It’s your turn. Take your top off! I want to find out what the cream tastes like!”
I jerk my woolen sweater over my head.
“And the bra,” Marcus orders, pointing to my red lace bra.
“You’ll have to do that yourself. Remember, I booked the whole service,” I boldly inform him.
“As you wish!” Marcus positions himself between my legs, traces my throat with the tip of his tongue and caresses my cleavage. Then he skillfully opens my bra and flings it aside. He tenderly massages my breasts until my nipples rise up. He takes up the aerosol and sprays a little cream on my nipples. Real slow and with obvious pleasure he licks the sweet substance off my right one, then enfolds the nipple with his mouth and sucks it very gently. I wrap my legs around his upper body and feel his growing erection between my legs. My body reacts to him more or less instantly. A sweet tingling sensation spreads through my womb. I want more!
Now Marcus attends to my left nipple. I moan quietly.
I carefully pull down his boxers and release his erect phallus from its tight prison.
“My turn,” I whisper and lick my lips seductively. I push Marcus away a little, grab the cream and walk into the lounge. He follows, wearing nothing but his skin.
“Lie down!” I order and indicate the sofa.
Marcus growls, but for once he does what I tell him and obediently lies down.
I shake the cream container again and spray a respectable portion onto his hard dick. Then I dip my finger into the white substance and lick it off demonstratively. I want to keep Marcus in suspense a little longer.
“You are such a bitch!” He grabs my hair with both hands and pulls my head closer to his erection. I oblige, open my mouth and carefully lick the cream of his phallus. Then I take his whole penis into my mouth and suck it.
Marcus groans and grips my hair more forcefully. “If you stop again this time, I’ll kill you!” His voice sounds rough.