Here's the story on how I got caught by my own cleverness -- by you, of course. I hope you enjoy it. Sire. By the way? Remind me to never make bets against you again.
Why are you laughing?
Okay, okay, so this is the fifteenth bet I've lost, and the fifteenth time I asked you to remind me...
Yes, Sire. I will behave. Nicely, even.
YOW! Hey, no swatting! We agreed on that, remember?
Thank you. That feels better. Sire.
Now...on with the story.
*
It was already a hot day in downtown Chicago. I was in a mood to strip and run to the Millennium Park fountain, to splash my pals and flash the norms. Well, why not? There were no kids around, and it must have been in the mid-90's. I get sick of clothes when it goes over 80.
I wasn't alone. Crow was restless, standing on the top of the bus shelter, her hair a finger-snarled mass of rose curls, looking around. We'd been waiting for the bus to The Museum of Science and Industry, but it was taking so long. If I teleported her to the fountain, surely she'd get naked and-
"BA BAH BAHAHAHA!" a thousand trombones sounded, just barely in unison.
"Jiminy Christmas!" Nick roared, jumping backwards and blocking his ears.
"Wah-wah-wah-waaaaahhhhh," mocked a trumpet.
As one, we turned to glare at the SAIC musician who had laid claim to the little performance area in the corner. He was grinning at us; then he darted to another electronic instrument and rapidly typed in notes. Something like a hyperactive humpback whale competed with an extremely p.o'd cat played, all over a bass that made one's bones tremor. Suddenly, the man was a rocket, dashing around spinning dials and smacking sticks and palms on flat surfaces, making horrible beeps, blatts, cat screams, glass shatters, distorted hyena calls, all with a constant droning tone and piercing whistle over it all.
Suddenly, Crow hopped down to mock-whisper to Ken, "This music sucks! You should dance to it, Peanuts-kid style, to see what he does. I dare you."
He snickered. "Mock a SAIC student? Sounds like fun! What do I get if I do it?"
"Other than the joy of it?" She grinned. "You get to dare me to do something."
We all looked at her. First of all, Crow's dares are never this juvenile. Secondly, she never takes dares. But her eyes, usually calm and silver, looked like kaleidoscopes with pink, rose, orange and saffron whirling around. Something was going on. She needed the distraction.
Ken marched right up to the dude, and got down with his best orange-shirt-Peanut dance, hunching up his shoulders, shuffling, turning to the other side and repeating. As people began to stare, he got into the mood and tossed in a little bit of jig, a little bit of break-dancing, and a little bit of acting like he was electrocuted -- all as the music dictated.
Now, you'd think the man would get pissed off. He was, after all, being eclipsed. But this guy? No. Grinning, he went with Ken's motions. Made the noise into a bizarre techno that we all laughed, norms and magi, joining in to dance.
Finally, he closed down the piece with a fucking riff on Beethoven's 9th. Seriously! With a fey triumphant look, he said, "Thank you for attending my piece: Pretentious Suburban Nihilist Deconstructs Music. My name is Amadeo d'Argent; you can find my works at SAIC's Sound Labs and on Mixmasters.mus. Love!" And he bowed.
The norms drifted off; the bus came and went. But we magi were curious; we crossed the park and came up to him just as he made his instruments simply vanish. Crow's eyes focused, turning the shade of indigo that means she's about to launch 1001 questions, and she zipped ahead of us all to stand before Amadeo. "Cool show, dude," she began, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning forward. "And some major magicka," she whispered huskily.
Ken and I looked at each other, worried. Yeah, the dude was a major hunk -- I'm talking like 6 feet something, long glossy dark braided hair down to his waist, form-fitting purple pinstripe pants, matching vest and brilliant red button-down shirt -- but Crow had just finally agreed to a hand-fasting with her lifemate. One that forbid all other men. But she didn't look like she cared, and the man was checking her out as he smiled sensuously. Wickedly. I dunno.
"Well, hello, sweet thing," he murmured, his hands extended. "I must say, you remind me of the babe."
Oh, come on! How could he possibly carry of quoting from The Labyrinth?
But it worked; she was blushing, even as she stepped back. Ken had to throw out a hand to keep her from falling. "You," she whispered.
"Indeed." He bowed again, one arm sweeping before him, the other behind, one leg crossing before the other as if he was this knight from the days of chivalry.
The again, some of our best magi were from those times, but he felt different, somehow; much older.
"But you're not looking for me," she said. "If anything, I am the mirror, not the..."
He stood. "Understood. But, my dear, you are one step the closer to her. And your magicka feels so sweet, so tempting..."
I loved how his red lips curled knowingly; how he came closer to her; how the air fairly shimmered with the heat coming from him. Somehow, his shirt had unbuttoned, revealing a hairless, truly ripped set of abs. I wanted to lick the sweat off of him.
"I, uh, you see." Crow laughed, then blushed when he took her hands and kissed both of her palms. "I shouldn't be doing this," she said, but her eyes were turning that shade of purple that promises intimacy. He came closer, looking down at her with this smugness, and my spine tingled. "I made a promise."
When he pressed her close, leaned her back and pressed his sweet red lips against hers, she moaned, threw her arms around him, and kissed him back. His hands went down to clutch her buttocks; she, in turn, let him lift her so their sexes were at the same level, pressed close with only clothing keeping them away from full intercourse. And she was panting, eyes wild with the need.
Ken cursed. "She's breaking her word," he growled.
"She can't help it," I gasped. Gods, it was erotic. I could feel the waves of lust going from him to her, only to be mirrored, intensified, and reflected back. Really, who was this dude??
Blanca growled; looking at her, I found her lion's tail out and swishing, and her nails turning to black needle-like claws. Nick was shimmering, his eyes gone tricksy. Daybreak was cracking his knuckles, grinning most ferally. And Darren? Fuck. Our god-touched one's nostrils were flaring, his fists were clenching, and the Bull's Aura was rising around him. Even his god-ally was on the defensive.
But everything in me knew Amadeo was no enemy. He wasn't trying to force Crow, only to seduce her. I felt that, if she hadn't wanted him, he would never have offered himself to her. There was this feeling of honor running deep, of some history between them that could not, should not, be explored.
Wait. Lust, seduction, music...I knew who he was! And we needed him to join us. The Seer had predicted one such as he would come...
I teleported Crow next to Darren, and, as he helped her stand upright, calm and come out of the lust-trance, put my hand right between Amadeo's pecs. "So. Amadeo. Sire. This is the deal. She's not available. Jealous husband and all that."
He looked aside, sneering in disgust. "Of course," he spat.
Woah. Bitter much? I had a cure for that.
"But I find you quite the temptation. You are...so...damn...delicious. And my boy loves to watch me with others." I stroked down his chest, over those lovely abs, and rubbed fingers daringly over his pants before I darted my hand away. "I know who you are. Sire. I know one of your claims to fame."
I teleported my clothes back to my apartment.
As everyone stared, I pressed my breasts together, kissed at him and said, "If you can catch me, you can have a taste of me. But that means tearing yourself away from her. Can you handle that, old man?"
His eyes lost the range to intrigue, and how he laughed. "Old man?! Oh, I will catch you, fiery little mage; and when I do, your boy will be, if not jealous of our play, at least envious my lingual talents."
Ooh, how that made my skin tingle. I do love a man going down on me in public. And this one? I was already wet for him. So I taunted, "Promises, promises," and teleported just as he came up to me, just as his fingers traced a line of sparks up my spine.
He teleported after me, and was right behind me just as the water came spraying down. "Hey!" he cried out, before laughing. "You don't want to know what this suit cost."
Crow dashed by, and swatted his ass. "Nothing; I bet you had it magic-crafted." She giggled, then leapt up into the air when he tried to grab her. Hovering, she circled once, then fled when he reached up to her with energy to pull her down.
"No," I said, spinning to come up in his space. I leaned forward, licked his lips and said, "I have dibs."
"Do you?" he asked, arms going around me.
I teleported to the other side, and laughed at his perplexed expression.
"She's a wizard," Darren called out roughly, smile mocking the other. "Do catch up -- sire."
"You mock. Do I know you?" Amadeo asked.
"One of us; the passenger." Darren chuckled. "To find out more, you'd have to catch me." He made his clothes vanish. "But since I'm not a woman, I know you'll never bite." His bull's aura flashing, he changed form to a pillar of magma and sank into the ground.
"Who are you?" Amadeo demanded, teleporting to Ken and grabbing his arm.
"We're the City-Sprinter tribe, of the Red Knights magi club, bloke," Ken said, the Irish rising in him. "Who are you?" And he broke loose, tumbled back, and did a series of backward handsprings that led him to the Prairie Path steps, where he stood on his hands.
I ran up behind Amadeo, unable to resist, and stroked my hand over his pants zipper and lower. "Well, well, someone's ready to play. But someone is also overdressed."
Again, the water splashed to the ground, soaking him.