Author's note: Be aware that there is a long, but hopefully still enjoyable, build-up to the actual sex in this one. All characters are over 18, as stated in the story.
A Marked Deck: Chapter 1 - The Queen of Diamonds
It was my friend Ellie who started it and so is the one to blame - or perhaps I should say, to thank. The rational part of me thinks it should be the former, but my heart and soul tells me otherwise, and so does my bank balance but I am getting ahead of myself with that part.
Ellie had come to see me on a Sunday, unusual in itself, and all she seemed to want to talk about was a live show she had seen three days earlier. She said it had so impressed her that she was planning on returning tomorrow evening and wanted me to come too. I wasn't keen. It didn't sound like my sort of thing at all, but she wouldn't let the idea drop. Reluctantly I asked for more details, hoping to find a way out that wouldn't offend her.
Ellie and Rachel - most of our other friends thought we were chalk and cheese, so different were our personalities - but we had been close friends since school. I liked to think my sensible, rational approach to life calmed down her flights of fancy a bit, while also having to admit that her sense of fun was very good for me.
"So this guy - what's his name again?" I asked.
"Alexander Sharp."
"He's a stage magician - an illusionist - right?"
"Partly, but that's not the best bit. He's also a mesmerist ... you know, hypnotism. And he uses his powers to help people! He takes people who are unhappy about something and fixes it for them. It's amazing. You have to see it to believe it."
Ellie was excited. She was a naturally enthusiastic person anyway, but I couldn't recall her being quite this carried away since we went to see some boy-band she was fan-girling about when we were teens. Knowing her, she probably still liked them, whereas I couldn't even remember the band's name.
Our tastes often differed like that, and they did about this show. I concede that magicians are clever in their fakery, but I like to find out how things work and take no pleasure in being tricked. And as for hypnotism, it was well know that a person could only be affected if they allowed themselves to be. There seemed no real point to it and I certainly couldn't see how it could help anyone in the real world. Ellie obviously sensed my scepticism as she followed up by saying:
"Oh come on Rach, just give it a try. It'll be fun - and you need some. It'll take your mind off worrying about bloody money for a while."
She had me there. When we had left sixth form at eighteen, she had decided against university - academic study had never been her thing, although she was far from stupid - and got a job instead. The result was that that she had five years of earnings behind her, although that didn't mean everything was rosy; judging by Ellie's complaints to me her line manager was something of a bully. In contrast I had always loved school, especially science, and had eagerly set off to university, filled with the excitement of learning. I had spent three years on getting my BSc and another on a Masters and emerged highly qualified and confident of getting a well-paid and fulfilling job.
It hadn't quite worked out like that. My timing was bad, the job market seemed to be in decline and all the roles I applied for wanted practical experience I didn't have and couldn't get as no one was giving me the chance. I'd had typical student jobs while at university - waitressing, shop work and the like - but the money from those had all gone on living expenses, and while I could easily get similar work now, that wasn't going to pay the rent and other bills on the flat I was living in.
The problem had become acute when my boyfriend had walked out on me a month earlier. I didn't miss him - good riddance in fact - but he had been paying half the rent and I simply couldn't afford it without that second income. I had already cut costs where I could. Unless I found a new source of earnings soon I would be at risk of eviction by my landlord. And beyond that were all the debts accumulated as a student. The whole situation was wearing me down.
Perhaps seeing my gloomy expression as these thoughts ran - for the thousandth time - through my mind, Ellie said, "Oh for god's sake Rach, look at you! You need a break. I've got two free tickets, so it's my treat; just say you'll come tomorrow night."
I could see, for whatever reason, this meant a lot to her. Perhaps an evening out, even one at an event that didn't interest me, was a good idea after all. The alternative was another night sitting in my flat wondering how long it would be before I had to leave it. So, to Ellie's delight, I gave in and agreed to go and watch Mr Alexander Sharp perform.
*****
In preparing for my unplanned evening out, my initial thought was to not bother with my appearance too much. I wasn't trying to impress anyone and I certainly wasn't looking for a new boyfriend. I'd only just got rid of the last loser and at twenty-three time was on my side. Two things changed my mind. The first was that this magic show was taking place in a nightclub style bar which I knew required a good standard of dress to get into, for example no denim.
The second factor was Ellie. I have always thought my friend much more attractive than me, although she insisted otherwise. She has long red hair and creamily pale skin, only lightly freckled, that often goes with it, making her naturally stand out in a crowd. While neither of us is especially tall, she still had the advantage being 1.7m to my 1.65 (or two inches taller than my 5'5" if you prefer), and although we were both slim and fit, I was convinced the extra height made me look dumpy in comparison to her.
In contrast to those ginger locks, my own hair was a standard brown - although Ellie insisted that I had a lovely natural chestnut tint that she envied - and I wore it short in a pixie cut. Together with my glasses, I thought it completed a look that could only be described as 'nerd'. Ellie instead insisted I was 'cute' and, to be fair, quite a number of boys had taken the same view over the years.
Not wanting to let my more glamorous friend down, I decided to put on enough make-up on to be presentable. But there was still no need to be too sexy, so I went for a nice pair of trousers (which I will admit showed off my tight butt to good effect) and matching top, together with a light zip-up jacket and flats. Smart enough but all very sensible.
When I met Ellie as agreed at her place, which was nearer the club, I found she had taken a very different approach. Short skirt, low-cut blouse, a bit too much make-up, high heels and ...
"My god Ellie, are those stockings? In that skirt you're showing the tops. Who wears stockings these days? I don't even own a pair."