Black Magic

Bruce finished work early at the car showroom as it was Friday afternoon. He always found he lost his edge when it came to flogging motors at this time of the week, when his mind was on the night ahead. He felt lucky tonight.

 

The female in question was Candice, who worked at the tobacconist over the road from Shearer’s, his place of work. She was putty in his hands, and always responded well to his double entendres with a haughty laugh and a blushing the hue of his maroon coloured leather blouson jacket. He was meeting her later for dinner. Nothing snaps knicker elastic like the thought of a free prawn cocktail and an enormous well done steak. He’d be getting a nice bottle of Black tower too. A bottle of white and she’s up all night, as the saying goes. Rumour has it that she was amorous after a few sherbets.

 

Bruce got into his 1976 Triumph TR7 and shifted it into first gear with the custom eight ball gear stick. He knew the TR7 was the envy of the cul-de-sac. The ‘wedge of cheese’ style aerodynamics probably didn’t add to the top speed, but it looked ‘the dog’s’. He’d paid extra for the black paint job too. He went home to prepare for his dinner date.

 

When he got home, he lined up a record on the stereo. He’d paid two weeks wages for it, even though he only had a collection of only nine records. He had Kate Bush, Abba, Ian Dury and the Blockheads and some Queen, including the Flash Gordon Soundtrack. He pondered what to put on when he got Candice home from the Bernie Inn. She had to be an Abba ‘Dancing Queen’ sort of a lady, he thought. He filled the coffee percolator so it was primed and ready to go.

 

He had a set routine for his ablutions. First of all he chose what to wear. He nearly always wore black trousers, shirts and shoes. This was his trademark. His shoes were of the slip on variety, or as he called them, slip offs. There is nothing more of a turn off for a woman than a man struggling to untie his shoe laces, falling all over the bedroom. He made a mental note to remember to take off his socks too. That was another turnoff.

 

Bruce went to the bathroom and ran hot water into the sunken tub of his avocado suite. He ran the water as hot as he dared. No bubble bath as he was a ‘real bloke’. He would use the soap on a rope his mum gave him for Christmas.

 

He got undressed and lowered himself into the water. There was a sharp intake of breath as his glans hit the water, but the pain subsided after a minute or two. ‘Got to give the prince a rinse’ he said to himself. He soaped himself down and lay there for a good half hour, just until his fingers started to wrinkle. He got out of the tub and got the talcum powder from the cupboard above the sink. He did this every time he had a bath, but he wasn’t sure why. Wasn’t a good towelling good enough to dry himself off?

 

Now for the most important part. The hair. He wore it with a swerved longish fringe, bangs that curled inwards at the bottom and bushy sideburns. He dried it off with his hairdryer and carefully combed every thing into place. When he was happy with the result, he walked into the bedroom and got dressed. He would leave most of his buttons on his shirt undone to reveal the tightly curled, rampant hair on his chest. He put on his shark’s tooth pendant with a thick gold chain. He felt this gave him the look of someone like Chuck Norris. A man of action with a hint of danger.

 

He knew not to douse himself in aftershave. It smacked of desperation, the last thing he wanted Candice to think. He dabbed a bit of Brut behind each ear and a little bit of deodorant under each of his armpits.

 

He got into his car and checked his A to Z just to make sure he knew where he was going. He wanted to arrive slightly late, but not too late. He wanted her to be as pleased to see him and again, as with the aftershave, he didn’t want to appear desperate. He never had been desperate. The only thing desperate about him was his jaw line, which looked like Desperate Dan’s.

 

He arrived at Maison de Candice at seven thirty five on the dot. He knew she’d hear him, gooey with anticipation, as he tramped up the gravel path, before he swung the knocker against the door.

 

The door swung open and there she stood. She was wearing, from the shoes up, stilettos, black fishnet tights, a tartan mini skirt and a brown sheepskin coat, which He couldn’t wait to see the contents of. Bra or no bra that was the question.

 

‘Hi Bruce. Great to see you.’ She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

 

‘I’m off now Dad.’

 

‘Can you put your pussy out while you’re at it Candice!’ Either her dad had a wry sense of humour, or he had no sense at all.

 

They didn’t talk much in the car. Bruce passed over one of his swanky Dunhill cigarettes. He always smoked Dunhill’s, the most expensive smokes in the cabinet, even though he knew that the other brands were probably no better. He also had a replica Cartier lighter.

 

‘You look nice tonight Candice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you from the waist down, what with you working behind a counter.’ He said and she giggled that naughty little laugh. I bet she’s a wizard in the sack, he thought. Bruce had to think of something else as the vibration of the car and her giggling gave him a bit of an erection. He knew he should have had a wank before he came out. It’s dangerous to go out with a loaded gun. It could go off too early or without warning.

 

He parked up the TR7 in the near empty car park of the Bernie Inn. Once inside they asked to be seated in the window, even though the view was of the colliery. Bruce sat there pondering the fact that if he’d been born a decade earlier he would probably been put to work in that pit. The miners were striking at the moment. He was worried about the current political situation himself, as there was a car manufacturing strike on at the moment too.

 

The waiter came over with the wine list and took their coats. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat when he saw what Candice was wearing. She had on a deep V neck sweater and no bra, and to be fair, she didn’t need one. They were large and she had a cleavage that Jans Klammer could slalom down.

 

‘Do you like Black Tower?’ Bruce asked.

 

‘I like anything wet and alcoholic’ she smiled.

 

‘Two Black Towers and an ice bucket please.’

 

‘Two?’ the waiter said in puzzlement.

 

‘Yes please. One for me and one for the lady. It’ll save you two trips.’

 

'Are you trying to get me drunk’ She lowered her head and the top of her nose wrinkled' as she smirked.

 

‘I have been meaning to ask you out for ages. Seeing you every day, I should have the black lung by now, the number of fags I’ve bought off you. I think you have a really beautiful face.’

 

She put her head down shyly and said, ‘I’ve got terrible crow’s feet’

 

Bruce looked under the table at her stilettos. ‘I think you’ve got nice feet.’

 

‘Ooh! You are a smooth talker. I’ve never heard a chat up line like that before.’ Neither had Bruce, because he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box and had said it in all seriousness.

 

The waiter came over and took their order. The Black Tower arrived as well. Two ice buckets one on either side of the table.

 

‘Steak all round I think chief. Well done.’

 

Bruce poured the wine. ‘So Candice. If I can tell you what you weigh, you have to knock back that glass of wine in one go.’

 

‘Go on the Bruce, what do I weigh?’

 

‘Sweets.’

 

‘You're an awful sod. I’ve got one for you. ‘I bet I can guess how many pubes you’ve got’

 

‘Go on lets hear it.’

 

‘Just the one and you wee through it.’

 

This was going well. Dirty jokes always get things going. He realised that he had been talking to her tits a lot and averted his gaze to her face. Which to be fair had a hell of a lot of slap on it. She must be begging for it.

 

The steaks arrived and Bruce poured more wine. The steaks were still smoking a bit, so Bruce ordered extra sharp knifes for the two of them.

 

‘I like them well done’ Bruce noticed he was salivating a bit, and who wouldn’t with this plateful and the well stacked lady in front of him. ‘They last longer, so you get your money’s worth, and I love them a bit crispy.’ He noticed her eyes were drooping slightly, whether from the smoke coming off their food or the wine. It was probably the latter.

 

‘So Candice, what do you like to do when you’re not working?’

 

‘Dunno really. I haven’t got much money, so a couple in the Bulldog is about all I manage. And it’s hard to do anything else, what with the blackouts..’

 

‘I’m sure the strikes will come to an end soon.’ He put his hand on hers and gave a gentle smile.

 

They finished their meal and drained the two Black Towers.

 

‘Well I can’t drive, so I’ll get us a cab.’

 

They hailed a cab. Bruce opened the door and Candice tumbled inside losing one of her shoes on the way in. He picked it up for her.'This is yours I believe, Cinderella.’

 

‘Where do you Live Bruce? We’ll go to yours first’.

 

Bruce was already congratulating himself. He was definitely on a winner here. A snog in the back of the taxi and away we go. Bruce sat down and Candice bent over, to speak to the driver with her arse in his face. He could see her knickers under her skirt. He felt a swelling in his Y fronts.

 

The taxi sped off towards his home. She was all over him now, like he was the prey.

 

They reached the house. Fuck the “Coming in for a coffee?” Routine. He thought.  it’s well beyond that now. His heart was hammering against his rib cage.

 

He chased her up the stairs slapping her on her peach of a bum.

 

'Cheeky sod.’

 

On the way up he put ten bob in the meter. It was enough power for the foreplay so they could take their time. But the way this girl was going, he’d have enough power to put the electric blanket on afterwards as well.

 

She ripped the two buttons on his shirt that were not fastened. Threw him down on the bed and dragged his trousers und underpants off. This girl was mad keen.

 

Thank God she wasn’t wearing a bra. Bruce always had a bit of a problem with this part as he had very fat fingers and always fumbled about. So he was spared that embarrassment.

 

Now they were naked under the eiderdown. She whispered in his ear ‘Tell me what you like.’ What a daft question he thought as he pointed downwards. She duly obliged and he was in heaven. Best not let her do this for too long as he was on the brink of going off like a Roman candle.

 

He rolled Candice off him and whispered in her ear ‘Now tell me what you like. Nothing too kinky though. After all I have my reputation.’

 

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to make you wear my knickers or anything. It is a bit unusual though.’

 

‘Go on I’m intrigued.’

 

‘Well it all started where I lost my virginity. We did it in his outside toilet and the enclosed space sort of made it more intimate. It was dark as well, and we could hear all our breathing and panting. The next time I did it was in a tent, again the enclosed space was a real turn on. It was like we were two rabbits in a nice warm burrow.’ Bruce had heard a lot of kinky stuff, but this seemed fairly reasonable. Romantic even.

 

‘Okay, why don’t we use the wardrobe? You take my clothes out and I’ll rubber up.’

 

Bruce went through his wallet for his Johnnie. Candice threw his suits and shirts on the bed. They were now ready.

 

Once inside there was a bit of struggling to get in the right, comfortable position. After a minute or two they were away. She was gasping and panting from the get go.’ Bruce had to admit it was very sexy, but the wardrobe was beginning to rock about a bit. It was a well built heavy oak model that he inherited from his dead Grandfather, so there shouldn’t be a problem. They were just about to climax when the wardrobe toppled over onto the floor. They were now trapped, unable to open the doors.

 

‘Bugger it. Oh fuck. Shit.’ They were panicking.

 

‘Bruce what are we going to do? Help! Help! She screamed at the top of her lungs.

 

‘Stop shouting. You're using all of our air. I’ll boot the back of the wardrobe in.’

 

As much as Bruce tried, he just didn’t have the space or the strength to kick the back through. All was lost. No one would hear them. They were running out of air.

 

Now the air had gone bad, Candice had stopped hyperventilating.

 

‘Look Candice. I think there is only one thing we can do now. We don’t have to suffer. It’s good night Vienna anyway.’ He pressed his face against the wood and said, ‘Have you heard of auto asphyxiation?’

 

‘What the fuck is that when it's at home?’

 

‘It’s when you fuck and just as you reach orgasm you cut off oxygen to the brain and have the orgasm of your life. But if we do this we can go out pleasurably rather than suffer.’

 

Candice said quietly, ‘You literally want us to fuck ourselves to death?’

 

'I think we’re dead already.’

 

Bruce penetrated Candice and thrust hard and fast. Candice orgasmed and went limp in his arms just as he shot with both barrels, then he saw stars and then everything faded to black.