Time Stop

"Seven of clubs," Henry calmly said.

"What?" What was he talking about?

"Seven of clubs, your card. It was the seven of clubs."

"Was it? Oh yes, yes, of course." She felt so confused, so distracted, but then finally gathered her composure, at least enough to realize, "Oh my gosh, you did it? Was it mirrors? How do you do it?"

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to have it back."

"Excuse me?"

"The card. I would like to have it back."

"It's in the deck. I put it in the deck. You saw me put it there."

Henry picked up the deck, turned it over, and spread it out, ostensibly looking for the card. "Well, you must have moved it because it's not there now."

Cynthia smiled. "Did you put it in my purse?" She reached for her purse. "How could you have done that? No time has passed." She realized that last remark probably sounded kind of weird, having not shared with Henry her weak hypothesis that he had hypnotized her.

"No, no, I'm afraid it's not there."

Cynthia stopped searching through her purse. "Well then, where it is?" she asked, albeit feeling a little apprehensive about where it might be.

His face reddened a bit as he said, "You might wish to check your..." Out of respect for her modesty and privacy, he lowered his voice for the last word... "brassiere."

Cynthia's eyes widened with shock, her jaw dropped. She turned away from Henry and undid one button of her sweater so that she could slip her hand inside, immediately finding the card. She pulled it out and looked with amazement at the sight of her card, seven of clubs, with her signed name. "Oh my goodness, Henry, how in the world could you have possibly done that!" It was really quite remarkable, as her sweater was fully buttoned. No hands could be that fast.

Henry was relieved. He was a bit worried that she might be upset at him for once again apparently rummaging within her brassiere. She was shocked, but not angry or appalled. Of course, many other guys had probably been within her brassieres before, but certainly no guys like Henry Demis. "A magician never reveals his secrets," he calmly replied.

It then dawned on Cynthia precisely where Henry had been. "Henry" she said, lowering her own voice, "my gracious, did you put your hand...in there?"

Henry's face reddened further.

Cynthia could see the self-conscious embarrassment on the boy's face. She now had the upper hand, a position with which she was well familiar when it came to guys. "Henry Demis, you naughty, naughty boy."

She appeared to be just teasing him, as she clearly had a flirtatious smile on her face, but Henry was not himself at all experienced with such banter, and he was certainly out of his league in engaging in such repartee with a girl as attractive and popular as Cynthia. "Um, well, I didn't really..." Of course, he had to have, but it was awkward to admit.

"Henry, did you feel my...bosoms?" She very rarely ever used such a word, but she knew it would only further fluster Henry.

It did make him uncomfortable but it also excited him, having Cynthia actually openly talking with him about her breasts, and his fingers touching them. He finally suggested, "It was magic," as if the card was mysteriously teleported into her brassiere.

Cynthia stepped up close to him, allowing her breasts to be less than an inch from his face, any small movement on his part would result in actual physical contact. Her nipples were again tingling, but now because of what she was doing, not what he might have in fact done. "Don't be embarrassed, Henry. I don't mind. It's magic."

Henry's cock was so fucking hard. "Yes, well, um, I probably should be going." What he wanted to do was to again crush his face into her breasts now so very, very close to him or, short of that, ask her out on a date. She would probably say yes now, wouldn't she? But there was no way he could muster enough nerve. He was amusing her, he was entertaining her, but he most definitely wasn't date material, let alone boyfriend material. He knew his place.

"No, no, don't leave. Show me one more. David Blaine can read people's minds and reveal secrets. Tell me something secret. Tell me something you know about me." Cynthia did enjoy having boys talk about her.

Henry drew upon all his strength, all his courage. If he was going to do this, he had to do it now. Well, not really, but this was clearly a very opportune point in time. "It would be very personal, something very secret and private," he warned her.

Cynthia was very intrigued. "Well, Henry, what do you know?" Now she really had to know.

"You promise you won't be angry. You won't be offended, no matter how private and secret it is?"

Cynthia glanced around to be sure that nobody was listening. A few guys were looking at them from well across the room. They were waiting for Cynthia to bring over her cherry cola. She hadn't been gone long but they didn't much care for the time she was spending, how brief it was, with Henry Demis. They had heard about the magic tricks he had done the previous day, and they could see that he had, once again, drawn her rapt attention.

"What are you going to tell me, Henry?" She did sincerely wonder what it might be. He could not possibly know how she lost her virginity, the fact that she liked to wear old, tattered sweat pants in the privacy of her apartment, the first time she had given a guy a blow job, or that she felt her breasts were too large for a model (the last one really wasn't a secret as she told lots of guys that).

She teased him a bit more. "Are you going to tell me the color of my panties?" She had used that line a few times on a date, telling a guy that he could slip his hand under her skirt if he could tell her the color of her panties. One time it had been a trick question as she wasn't wearing any panties at all. Of course, there was no way she would make such an offer to Henry.

Henry smiled. That was a rather nice ice breaker. "Something like that," he suggested.

Cynthia felt her face flush. What the heck did he mean by that? "Henry, I promise. I cross my heart," which she did so right across a breast, right in front of his eyes, "No matter what it is I won't be mad." It was a pretty risky promise. Quite a few guys had suggested and tried many things with her that she did find offensive, even repugnant, and she would become understandably upset. But, she felt safe with Henry, despite his apparent magic powers.

"Alright then, here goes," he said, rather ominously.

Cynthia giggled with apprehensive excitement, her breasts jigging before his eyes.

Henry stopped time.

He again lifted up Cynthia's skirt, and slip, tucking them into her belt. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down.

He faced a problem though when he got them to her ankles. How does he get them off? Wouldn't she just fall over if he lifted up one leg? She would have to be in a position to balance on the other leg, or to brace herself against the counter.

He got back up, stood behind her, memorized as best he could her current position, wrapped one arm around her waist, and used the other to lift her leg and shake off the panty, first from one foot, then the other. He did his best to carefully put her back into her original position.

He shifted back around to her front and paused to admire the sight. It did seem a bit flirtatious to have her skirt raised like that, and not even wearing panties! Such a dirty, naughty girl.

He pulled his cock out again and stroked it as he gazed upon her shaved, naked cunt. He stepped up to her, braced her with his left hand and pressed the swollen knob of his dick against her soft, moist lips. He was quite pleased to feel the evident moisture and warmth his "magic" was having on her.

He pondered while slipping and sliding his knob up and down her lips, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have sex with her right in the food court of the student center. He could bend her over a table, lift her skirt over her back, and mount her from behind. He considered such a possibility as the slit of his crown slipped over her stiffened, erect nub. Simply because she wouldn't move or make any sounds would be okay. Her cunt would still be wet, moist, pliant, and tight. It would still be very fucking fantastic. He pressed his cock harder against her clit, rubbing his soft knob around and around its stiffness. Maybe she normally didn't move or make any sounds. Maybe it wouldn't be any different than it would be like to have sex with her anyway. His cock wanted her cunt so, so fucking badly.

But, it really would be different in one important way: she wouldn't know about it. She wouldn't be doing it willingly. And, besides, he had bigger, better plans.

He pulled his cock way, pulled her slip and skirt from her belt, brushing them both to try to get out any wrinkles.

He slipped his cock back into his briefs and zipped up his pants. He picked up her panties. He wondered where he might put them.

Having them be sitting on the counter next to her purse would be funny, but she might get upset about others seeing them. He considered putting them into his pocket, but she might also find that too intrusive. He seriously doubted that she had let other guys take souvenir panties. He opted for the safest option, the most respectful. He put them in her purse.

He stepped back, slipped his hands into his pockets, stood as he had been before, but squeezing his cock with his left hand within his pants as he started time.

Cynthia suddenly felt unstable, as if she was going to fall. She grabbed hold of the counter.

"Are you alright?" Henry said, reaching out to gently touch an arm, letting her know he was there if she needed his help.

"No, no, I'm fine," she gasped, but she knew she clearly wasn't. She again felt so fucking aroused. Her cunt was so inflamed, so hot, so throbbing for a man's cock. She looked into Henry's eyes. What power, what magic, does this young man have over her? "What's the secret, Henry. Please, tell me, before I faint." She was only half-joking.

"Well, Cynthia," Henry calmly informed her, "If you were wearing panties, they would be pink thongs, with ripe red cherries."

Cynthia felt like she had to sit down, for a number of reasons. She leaned back against the counter, steadying herself, but wanting so much to reach beneath her skirt. Once again Henry's presence makes her feel so overwhelmed, so flushed with lust. "You're right, you're right," she gasped, no longer really amazed. Of course he would know. Henry can discern anything. He could perhaps do most anything. He was certainly the most stimulating, provocative, exciting man she had ever met.

And, then she realized what he had said. "IF I was wearing panties?" She reached down with her hand. She couldn't really tell well by touching her thigh or bottom for, as he had indicated, she was wearing a thong. Still, she wasn't sensing the strap up her butt. She pressed her fingers right against the front, right against where she desperately wanted to press her fingers anyway. The touch felt so good, so necessary. She instinctively squirmed, just a bit.

The eyes of the guys across the room opened wide with shock, and jealousy, and annoyance. What the hell was Cynthia doing with that jerk Henry?! Was she actually masturbating for him, right in front of everyone?

Cynthia though didn't keep her fingers there terribly long. As she felt the silk of the slip touching her cunt she had her answer. "Henry Demis!" she exclaimed, now with considerable surprise, coupled with as much lust.

"Well, I really need to be on my way." He turned to go.

She reached out for him, clutched his arm, and whispered, "But, my panties. Where are they?"

He smiled at her. "They're safe. They're in your purse."

"Please, Henry, can we do this again? Can you show me another one?" She really didn't want him to leave. She wanted more, at least enough to bring her to satisfaction.

"Well, I'm pretty busy today."

"What about tonight? This evening? At your..." She lowered her voice. She knew what she was about to imply, and such things are best kept private. "...Apartment." Her piercing green eyes looked deeply into his, the meaning very, very clear.

It took all of his willpower not to smile in triumph. He tried to appear largely indifferent. "Alright, if you wish. Eight o'clock?"

Cynthia smiled. "I'll be there."

He smiled back. "Well, I'll see you then. I'll have a nice surprise for you."

She knew he would. "Oh, but wait," she quickly added. "My goodness, where do you live?"

He gave her his address and left.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cynthia thought about this evening for the rest of the day. She had never anticipated a date with more excitement, more expectation. She couldn't really understand it. Henry was far from the guy she normally found attractive. He had thick glasses and even seemed a full foot shorter than her! Plus, outside of the magic he wasn't particularly interesting. He was a nerdy bookworm.

Still, she could not deny that whenever she saw him she became so fucking excited. It must be some sort of kismet, or something.

As she prepared for the date, making herself as pretty and alluring as she could, she considered even not wearing any panties. She giggled at what a cute joke that would be. He would try to guess or steal her panties but she wouldn't even be wearing anyway.

But, as the time approached she opted for panties. Not wearing panties on the first date was a rather bold statement, although she knew full well they would likely be gone before the evening was over, either taken off by him or by her.

She also could not help but wonder how he had managed to get hers off. She googled David Blaine and magic tricks revealed. She learned a lot about the art of misdirection. But, she still couldn't figure out Henry's tricks and how perhaps Blaine might in fact be cheating.

Well, she would find out tonight. She would get it out of him. If there was one thing she was good at, it was getting guys to do what she wanted. Henry may have his own power, but feminine wiles were pretty darned daunting as well. No previous man, young or old, had so far succeeded in resisting her.

She arrived twenty minutes late. That was a bit risky. She didn't want to annoy him. She didn't want to make it harder on her to get him to do what she wanted. But, she had learned from considerable experience that up to a certain point the longer a guy waits the more he enjoys and appreciates her arrival.

She was a bit disappointed with his apartment building. It was in a rather dumpy neighborhood, and was a rather featureless square cinder box. Heck, the apartments didn't even have balconies, let alone a pool. The hallway kind of smelled. She couldn't quite place the odor. It seemed to be some mixture of cheap air freshener with whatever had been spilled on the soiled, frayed carpeting. She felt that the clothes she was wearing probably cost more than the monthly rent on his place. Her enthusiasm was beginning to wane. Frankly, it was really so odd to be visiting Henry Demis. But, she had come this far. She knocked on the door.

As soon as the door opened and she caught his eye she was swept away with a strong feeling of lustful excitement. Both guys and girls do have pheromones. Some of her perfumes came with feminine pheromones, one of which she was wearing tonight, along with a scent that she had found to be rather intoxicating for men. But, apparently Henry had his own natural and very powerful pheromones. Perhaps that was the explanation? "Hello Henry. Are you happy to see me?" Her cunt was literally tingling with excitement. It was all she could do not to squirm and wriggle with lust.

Henry was delighted. His big grin spoke a thousand words and, if she had looked more closely, the moisture on his lips and chin would say quite a bit more as well. "Yes, yes, please, please come in. It's really cool to have you here."

It would have been really cool to have any girl in his apartment, let alone Cynthia Lauper. He opened up the door wide to direct her in.

Cynthia's steps were a bit unsteady, and she instantly realized that Henry did have his own distinct scent. She at first could not place it, but once she glanced around the apartment it became quite evident.

The air in his apartment was laced with the smell of musty, moldy old paper. She couldn't possibly count how many books were in there. They were stacked two rows deep on each shelf, such that he would have to remove books to get to the back row. There were books stacked high on every available table, counter, or shelf. Most every open space against a wall was filled with very large, high, stacks of books.

One could see into Henry's kitchen as he lived within an efficiency apartment. Stacked on top of the refrigerator were more books. The kitchen table had room for just one person, as the rest of it was covered with books, at least ten high. There were even a few books scattered around on his bed. She would no doubt find more books in the bathroom. She dared not look in his closet.

"Wow, you really do like to read, don't you, Henry."

"Yeah, kind of," Henry replied. "Do you?"

"I like magazines." She turned back to Henry, and then suddenly felt another wave of irresistible, overwhelming lustful desire course throughout her body. Her cunt was inflamed, and clearly very, very wet. She fell back onto the bed, sitting there in heated confusion. "Fashion magazines," she gasped. "Do you like them?" It would be kind of nice if they had at least one thing in common.

Henry had stopped time as soon as they had made eye contact, and then almost immediately again just moments later. He had noticed Cynthia's clear disappointment in his apartment. He wasn't surprised. What girl would be impressed by lots of books? Of course, it would be nice if he would someday meet such a girl, but at the moment he had only one girl on his mind.

Henry felt that perhaps he should lie to her, tell her that he liked fashion magazines a lot, but it was a lie he would not be able to sustain. Actually, he could stop time again and go out and buy lots of fashion magazines, or just steal them, and then study them. But, he didn't think that would in fact be necessary. He changed the subject.

"What magic would you like me to perform?"

Cynthia felt like asking him to make her have an orgasm right there, right now. Somehow she knew he probably could do that. She had wondered repeatedly how this date would go. She knew it would be far from normal, but she hadn't really expected that she would be this lecherously lustful so quickly and so intensely. She asked flirtatiously, leaning back on his bed, her breasts thrust out, "Can you make my panties disappear again?"

"Would you like to know how I did that earlier?"

Well, that didn't take long. Feminine wiles win once again. "Oh my gosh, yes! Really!? Would you tell me?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I should. A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Henry," Cynthia said, looking deeply into his eyes, spreading open her legs, "I will do anything to know the secret, anything you want." At this point she would have fucked him anyway. She would have fucked him for a card trick. She would have fucked him just because she wanted desperately to be fucked. It was icing on the cake to also learn his secret.

Henry took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. He was about to cross a line that he could not subsequently undo. He asked, "Would you take off your clothes?"

Cynthia suddenly felt another strong rush of lustful heat sweep over her cunt, moisture clearly leaking out, soaking her panties. No man had ever made her this excited, this wanton, simply by asking her to remove her clothes. She smiled seductively. She patted the bed beside her and said, "Here, you sit here."