Tricks Unseen

Tricksters are often the most reviled of all the Gods. They are most commonly found meddling in the lives of mortals.

Victor brushed his hair behind an ear and took a sip of bourbon. A double with a single ice cube. The bar he sat in was quiet, with only a handful of people in the place, and none of them near the booth Victor sat in. Victor was, by all accounts, a pretty man. He was not feminine, but a lean figure, a head of long, red hair, and a meticulously trimmed, "oops, I forgot to shave" beard did little to fend of the ladies. Actually, no, pretty was not the right word. The right word was dashing. He wore a waistcoat over a black silk button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up, with matching slacks, and shiny black oxfords. Empirically, Victor was a dashing man.

"God, its just not fair," his partner for the evening, Dana glowered over her own drink, a brightly coloured thing in a tall glass. "How does an overly manly man like you have such gorgeous hair?" Dana was a woman best described as lithe, narrow of shoulder and hip, with her dark in a short pixie cut, and a diminutive stature. She was certainly easy on the eyes, but she was a candle beside a torch when she went out with Victor.

Victor chuckled and scrubbed a hand through his long, coppery, hair. It fell down to his shoulders and curled slightly at the ends. "It's not that great, Dan, and I'm not that masculine." His fingers rasped through his short cut beard. "I mean, I'm a decorator for christ's sake."

"You've got a beard, you drink whiskey straight and you're taller than most buildings," Dana shot back.

"I'm only six foot, Dee." Victor grinned and tossed back the drink, the ice clinking against pearly teeth. The glass hit the dark wood table with a clack. "I'm the shortest guy in my family, except Mom."

"Just face it," Dana said haughtily, drawing herself up and looking down her nose at him with faux superiority. "You're the picture of modern masculinity and you've got it easy."

Victor barked out a biting laugh. "Hah! I've got it easy? How do I have it easy?"

"You're beautiful, you're successful, you can drink twice as much as me and not get drunk, you're strong, you don't have to worry about people slipping things into your drink..." Dana ticked off her fingers as she spoke.

Victor raised his empty glass "That last one is only because I have an exceptionally sensitive palette, I'd taste any shift in the flavour profile." Victor grinned and raised a hand to attract the attention of their waitress. "If anyone has got it easy it's you, women," Victor said. "How often do you pay for a drink when you don't want to?" Dana opened her mouth to speak but Victor cut her off. "I mean, even when you were dating, she paid for everything."

"It's not that simple and you know it." Dana snapped, with more venom than she meant. Victor frowned slightly. Dana sighed. "Sorry," she said tiredly. "I just don't want to talk about her."

"It's been months, Dee," Victor said, waving again to try and get service. "You gotta move on."

A woman wearing an apron approached with a notepad. She was a plain looking woman, nothing stood out at all. In fact, she was so ordinary that she was hard to focus on. Was she even their waitress? Didn't their server have black hair before? Victor shook his head, it felt light and heavy at the same time.

"She's right, you know," The plain woman said, her smile was wide and bright, it stood out, how could Victor have thought she was plain? Her eyes as well, they were a warm, glowing gold. Victor looked over at Dana, she swayed in her seat, her eyes heavy and lidded. "You should be more understanding, perhaps I will make you understand." The woman's voice coiled in his ear, like a snake slipping into his mind.

Victor's head took an age to look back at the new woman, barely comprehending that words were coming out of her mouth. "More... Bourbon?" Victor asked. The words felt far away, muffled like he was hearing them underwater.

"Right away!" A black haired young beauty wearing short shorts and a black tank top bobbed away through the sparse crowd. She was exceptionally pretty, Victor frowned as he watched her leave. What just-?

"Jesus, Vic, you stare any harder and her ass is gonna burst into flames." Dana scowled at him from behind her drink. She didn't seem to have noticed that anything strange had occurred. "I mean, she looks a decade younger than you. I'd be surprised if she's allowed to buy the liquor she's selling."

Victor looked away from the retreating waitress with wide eyes. "You didn't see that?" He asked.

"You undressing that poor girl with your eyes?" Dana raised an eyebrow. "You had better leave her a good tip, you practically drooled."

"What? No! The woman with the smile, and the eyes!" Victor's voice raised, "Tell me you saw the eyes."

Dana narrowed her eyes at Victor, confused. "Her eyes? What, did you 'get lost in the endless sea of her eyes?', please tell me you didn't use a line like that. It's cheesy and you can do better." She tapped her chin with a lacquered nail, considering, "better than staring at her tits, I guess."

Victor shook his head again. "No... that wasn't..." Did it even happen? Victor looked down at his empty drink. Had the profile been off? He asked himself. No, it was perfect. Sharp on the nose and the pleasant spice of a good rye.

"Are you alright, Victor?" Dana looked genuinely worried now.

"Yeah," Victor looked away from the glass. "I'm going to head out, though. I'm done for the day."

Dana pouted, "It's still early! What am I going to do?" She asked.

"Stay?" Victor suggested with a shrug, "You're a big girl, Do whatever you want. I think one of the other waitresses was eyeing you."

Dana fidgeted in her seat for a moment and took a sip of her drink, now nearly empty. "No," she said. "I'll leave with you, I don't like to drink alone."

Victor swung his coat over his shoulders and waited for his friend to get ready. "It's not a big deal, I go out alone all the time."

Dana sighed. "You're a man, It's different," she said tiredly. She'd had this discussion before. "Look, just accept there are some things that you're not equipped to understand."

"Ahh, yes," Victor mused. "The magical tits of understanding, No man may acquire them."

Dana grinned, "Exactly. You gotta get the goods before you know how it is." She jostled her own slim endowment.

Victor chuckled but kept his eyes up and away from Dana's chest. They were good friends, Best friends, but Dana was most definitely a confirmed bachelorette. A fact he learned the hard way after half a bottle of scotch and a knee to the groin. Their friendship endured, however, and they grew quite close, even wingman'd for each other when they found time to go out together, as they had planned to do tonight. As he waited for Dana to get ready, Victor's eyes scanned around the club, it was a quiet night, there wasn't much in the way of women. The waitress caught his eye again, slender, but with curves in the right places.

"Horndog," Dana said, following his gaze as they began to walk. "How long has it been since you've actually been on a date?" They approached the waitress at the bar. "Our bills?" She said to the waitress, "Separate." The young woman nodded and busied herself finding the card reader. "Having only empty sex can't be healthy."

Victor pulled his wallet out. "It certainly isn't awful." He said, smiling that dashing smile at the young woman who took his card. She blushed and hurried to process his payment. Victor turned to Dana. "It's been what? Five months since Monica? You sure you couldn't use some empty sex?" Victor nodded over to some of the other patrons. "I'm sure we could find someone you're into."

Dana crossed her arms. "I'm fine," she said icily.

"I'm sure," Victor smiled. "How's the battery budget? I keep telling you to switch to rechargeable-ow!" Victor cowered under a series of blows Dana rained down on his shoulder. "Mercy!" He laughed as he tried to fend her off. "Mercy!"

The waitress handed back Victor's card and Dana offered her own. "You're so lucky." The young woman said to Dana as Victor stepped away, looking down at his phone.

"Why-? Oh no." Dana shook her head. "We're not together. Just friends." The waitress smiled.

"So you don't mind if I-?" The young woman nodded towards the oblivious Victor

Dana's return smile only looked a little forced. "Nope, not at all." He's never going to let me forget this. She grumbled internally as the young woman finished with Dana's card and bounced over to hand Victor her phone.

Victor and Dana walked out of the club into a dreary night. Victor grinning like an idiot, and Dana glowering under hunched shoulders. Victor opened his mouth to speak, but Dana silenced him with a glare. "Not. One. Word." Victor raised his hands in submission and they walked into the night.

"Her name is Belle." He said smugly. "She's 22"

"Go fuck yourself."

Victor smiles. "And shoe in on your territor- Ow!" Victor laughed and rubbed his shoulder where Dana had hit him again. Dana tried to keep up her glare, but soon they both dissolved into laughter.

Victor scowled as the fifth cab passed him by, he threw down his arm. "Oh, come on!" He shouted.

"Let the pro try," Dana said. "Now go away for a bit."

Dana stood by the roadside and waited. Victor put some distance between them and pulled out his phone.

A taxi approached through the gloom. Dana cocked an admittedly narrow hip and waved. The taxi slowed and pulled over. Dana rolled her eyes and motioned Victor over. "It's just sad how easy that is, sometimes." She said, opening the door and motioning Victor. "I mean, I know I'm not hard to look at, but you guys should have some standards."

Victor climbed in and looked back at Dana. "Dana, are you implying?"

Dana plopped down on the seat next to Victor, "What are you inferring?" She clicked the seat belt into place and looked at the driver. "101 beatty, please." The cab accelerated away.

"If you think you're anything less than gorgeous, you're cracked, Dee," Victor said firmly.

Dana rolled her eyes again. "If that were the case, Monica wouldn't have-

"Monica was a cunt."

"Victor!? Jesus!" Dana gasped. "Don't use that word! It's awful"

Victor shrugged, nonplussed, "Honest truth, Dee." She was a terrible person and you deserve better. Besides," Victor smirked. "We both know you're hot, and you know I know. I have high standards."

Dana scoffed but didn't say anything. She had reacted poorly when Victor tried to sleep with her, she knew that. They had both been a great deal younger, and dumber. Now Victor didn't believe he was God's gift to all women, only the straight ones, and Dana no longer felt like she had to lead every conversation with, "As a lesbian..."

The rest of the ride was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. Dana's place was closer, a tidy little apartment building near the edge of the city centre. On the affordable side of nice. After she was out, Dana leaned back into the open window. "Text me when you're back home safe, okay?"

It was Victor's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah sure, not like I'm headed into a war zone."

Dana glared at him. "I'm serious, Don't make me worry."

The cab pulled away and Dana walked inside her building. Her apartment was on the middle floors of the building, not too low and not too high. She entered her place, a cosy one bedroom apartment with a spacious, open concept living room/kitchen. She kicked off her shoes with a sigh and stumbled into the living room to collapse on the couch face first.

"God, I need to get laid." She mumbled into the cushions. Belle had been pretty, but not really her type. She preferred someone bigger than herself, slightly tougher since she was a lesbian, but she was so small herself that almost everybody had at least a few inches on her, at least. Dana's had slipped inside her pants, reach between her thighs. What I wouldn't give for a big, powerful, Amazon to just... Her finger stroked her sex through her panties, ravage me... she ground a circle into her clit, a spark that lit a fire inside her. Her hips lifted off the couch and she pressed her face into the cushions, "mph." Fingers dipped inside herself and Dana's thoughts turned to the vibrator in her bedside table, bringing a smile came to her lips for a moment until it soured. I'm out of batteries. "Phuuuk!" Her shout was muffled by the cushions.

Victor paid the cabbie and got out of the car. A light rain made him flip up the collar on his wool coat as he hurried to the door of his condo building. Decorating might not be a "Man's" job, but if you were good it sure paid well, and Victor was very good. He swung open the door and entered the lobby of his building. A middle-aged man looked up at him. Rail thin, wearing a dark doorman's uniform, and sporting a beard slashed with so much dark grey and white it was impossible to distinguish his original colour.

"Good evening Mister Grady," The old man said, tipping his hat.

"Tom." Victor tipped an imaginary hat back and crossing the lobby to push the "up" button for the elevator.

"An early night for you, Sir," Tom remarked.

"Got a bit of a headache," Victor said. The elevator dinged and opened. "Thought I'd hit the hay early and try to sleep it off."

"Very good, Sir." Tom was the picture of professionalism.

"Have a good one," Victor waved as the doors closed.

"I shall certainly try."

Victor stepped out of the elevator into the short hallway that leads to his apartment. As soon as his foot hit the floor, the door opposite his own opened. Shit. Victor thought. A leg stepped out, followed quickly by its owner.

"Mrs Callahan," Victor said, pulling his collar with an uncomfortable laugh. "You're still up."

"Why of course I am Victor," Mrs Callahan, a powerful and poised looking woman who appeared to be in her late forties, but in fact was in her mid-sixties. She eyed Victor with a hungry gaze. "I see you're alone tonight, couldn't find a pretty young thing to take home with you?"

Victor almost had time to respond before Mrs Callahan rolled over whatever he had been going to say.

"Perhaps you should aim for something more..." She took three quick steps and closed the distance between them in a flash, standing face to face. "... Mature." Her lips were cherry red and her breath smelled of red wine. Mrs Callahan's eyes searched Victor's. He could almost see the lust burning behind them.

"Sorry, Mrs Callahan," Victor said stiffly, taking a step around his neighbour. "A bit of a headache, not really in the right frame of mind for entertaining." I also have a rule of not dating anyone older than me by twenty years. Victor didn't finish the thought out loud.

Mrs Callahan bit her bottom lip and eyed Victor up and down. "Oh it would be entertaining," she said throatily, watching Victor edge past her and quickly enter his condo.

Victor closed the door behind him quickly and leaned against it with a sigh. "She's going to kill me, eventually." He said to the empty apartment.

His condo was sparsely decorated, but that was how he liked it. Lots of simple shapes and dark tones, with splash of colour for sharp contrast. Victor slipped off his shoes and stowed them in the closet by the door, with his coat following it. The entryway opened directly into a spacious living room, with a plush, black sectional marking the room's "borders". Opposite the couch was a truly expansive television, and a plain but stylish chair facing the wall opposite the entryway, which was almost entirely taken up by windows. Giving a breathtaking view of the city's night lights. Victor poured himself another drink from a smooth glass carafe, scotch, and stared out over the city. Like a bed of stars fixed to the earth, the city stared back. A thought occurred.

Victor fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped a message into it. He took a sip and waited for a response. He didn't wait long, within two minutes a crystal chime announced the response's arrival. Victor looked down at his phone and smiled.

Belle(hot waitress): I'd love to come by!

Victor sent the address and immediately received another Chime.

Belle(hot waitress): I've always wanted to get inside there! I'm on my way!

Victor smiled and did not put his immediate thought into the response. Instead, he wrote:

You: I'll tell Tom to let you in. Just tell him your name and that you're looking for me.

Victor when to the entryway and keyed an intercom set into the wall there, it went directly to the working doorman. "Tom, I've invited over a friend, her name is Belle," he said.

"A scalp massues, for your headache?" Tom asked wryly, his voice crackling through the intercom.

"Sure," Victor said with a grin. "That."

"I'll send her up as soon as she arrives."

"You're the best, Tom."

Victor left the intercom and hopped into the shower quickly. He gave himself a quick scrub to get the worst of the day off. When he exited he wrapped a towel around his waist and padded out to the thermostat, cranking the heat up. He was standing at the mouth of his walking closet, trying to decide what he should wear when he heard the knock at his door.

Victor looked over at a full-length mirror. He didn't have "washboard" abs, but he had very little excess, with nicely defined pectorals and shoulders. Victor shrugged and walked out of his bedroom and ripped open his front door to reveal Belle, who was wearing the same short shorts and tank top she had on in the bar, with her long black hair up in a high ponytail.

"Uh, hi," Belle said, she stood in the doorway and toyed with her hair, nervously coiling a finger around the end of her hair.

Victor grinned reassuringly, "Sorry, you caught me just out of the shower." Victor was subtly leaning backwards, just a tiny bit, to make his abdomen tense up and flex. "Please, come in." Victor stepped to the side and waved. "Make yourself at home."

Belle took a tentative step into the apartment and looked around, mildly awestruck. "Gosh, this place is huge! And so fancy!" She looked over at the kitchen with an island stove and breakfast bar. "I think your kitchen is bigger than my entire apartment." She said, Victor, chuckled and followed her in, going to the drink cabinet.

"Can I offer you anything to drink? Wine? Whiskey? I've got a great Glen Garioch 12 year somewhere"

Belle looked back from the wall of windows. "Wine would be great. I could never stomach scotch, Bleah." She made a face and turned back to the windows. "This is the best view I think I've ever seen.

Victor joined her and handed over a glass of wine. He looked at with a smile. "I've seen better," he said, a sly tilt to his voice.

Belle arched a single eyebrow. "Oh?" She knew what was coming, a playful smile tugged at her lips.

"I'm looking at it right now," Victor said, stepping closer to Belle, close enough that Belle had to look up to maintain eye contact. She pressed a hand to Victor's abs, feeling the firm muscle and her breath wavered, ever so slightly. Victor put one finger under Belle's chin and lifted her head up and he bent down to kiss her. The kiss was slow at first, unsure, then it deepened and Belle moaned softly into Victor's mouth.

"Mmmm..." The kiss broke and Belle looked into Victor's eyes, her dark brown striking sparks against his bright blue. "I don't normally..." She started in a throaty whisper.

"Shhh." Victor pressed a finger to her lips. "What's the fun in normal?" he asked.

Belle looked down at the city, then to Victor. She grinned and then downed the entire glass of wine in three impressive gulps. "None at all." She said, her hands going to Victor's towel.

The cloth dropped to the ground and, exposing Victor to the world, Belle quickly followed and her hand went to Victor's cock, seven inches and with a comfortable heft.