Perverts 'R' Us

Dream Date

By Anna Cater ( F/m, magic, rom )

This story follows on from an earlier piece, "One Evening in Church," which also centers on a character named Jaco. This story probably makes more sense if you read the previous story first, but it is not strictly necessary. Although it is not made explicitly clear in the text, Jaco is thirteen and three months old in this current story. I should also point out that this is a love story, not a sex story, and is written for those who enjoy woman-boy romances. Should you fall into this category, please feel free to send feedback to annacater@gmail.com.

It began at five o'clock on the evening of June 23rd. Midsummer Eve. That magical night when the thin veil between the worlds is easily torn, and anything may happen. There was a knock at the front door, although I had heard nobody approach the house. When I opened it, there was a woman I had never met on the doorstep. She introduced herself:

"Hello, my name is Laura." She spoke in a strong, clear, rather bossy voice with a New York accent. "I am your fairy godmother."

Now there was little of faerie in Laura's appearance. She looked to be in her late twenties, was medium height, slim, fair-skinned, freckled, and had shoulder-length light brown hair and hazel eyes. She was wearing an ordinary skirt and jacket and low-heeled leather shoes, such as thousands of women wear to the office every day. Yet despite her unremarkable exterior, an unearthly light did seem to shine through her, and I had the strangest feeling that she was not really there; that she was an image beamed to me like a hologram from some other dimension of space and time.

"What do you want?" I whispered. I did not challenge her calling herself my fairy godmother.

"I am here to grant you the deepest wish of your heart," she replied, a trifle smugly. "Tonight you will have a date with the man of your secret dreams. You will be with him until midnight tonight, and no matter who he may be, everybody in the outside world will accept him as your date for the evening without question. Most importantly, there will be no consequences or repercussions of any kind arising from this date. You do not need to worry about anything except enjoying yourself and having a good time. Your date will be here in one hour precisely. Go and get ready for him."

When she finished speaking, which she had done in a slow, measured fashion, as if repeating a message, she smiled and vanished, as if she had never existed. By now I was not sure she had existed. Had I been dreaming? Had I imagined her? And what did her strange words mean? Who was the man of my secret dreams? I racked my brain, but nothing made any sense. I would wait for an hour, and when nothing happened, I could dismiss it as a harmless fantasy, and return to normal life.

More to give myself something to do than anything else, I got ready as if I were going out for the evening. I bathed and scented myself, did my hair and put on make-up. I wore fresh, white lingerie that I had never worn before, saving it for a special occasion. I dressed myself in a long flowing chiffon skirt, and a lilac-coloured top with a deep V neckline edged in lace that displayed my cleavage perfectly. It was a warm night, so I wore sandals. Just as six o'clock struck, I was putting on my earrings and doing up my necklace so that the pendant nestled just above my breasts.

There was another knock at the door, and as I went to answer it, I wondered if this was my date, and who it might be. Would it be a celebrity? A movie star? A rock singer? Would it be someone from my past? A childhood crush? A former lover? Someone I had once seen in the street and longed for because they were so stunning? Or would it all be a cruel hoax?

I opened the door with a feeling of great curiosity and deep trepidation. Standing on the doorstep was Jaco, freshly scrubbed, in very clean jeans and an ironed shirt, with his black hair, still wet from the shower, combed severely flat against his head. He gave me a shy smile and held out a bunch of red tulips. My heart lurched almost painfully in my chest, and I knew that Laura had been right - Jaco was the man of my secret dreams, and this was my dearest wish.

I smiled back and ushered him inside, kissing him tenderly on the cheek and taking the flowers from him to place in a vase. I thanked him for bringing me my favourite flowers, and said they smelt lovely. He told me there was a taxi waiting for us outside, and that we had to go at once. Together we walked down the garden path, and he held open the taxi door for me. Feeling as if I were in a daze, I slid over so that he could sit next to me on the back seat. The taxi drove away; the driver did not ask for directions, as if he had already received his orders.

I looked across at him and once again my heart began to beat harder and faster. "I'm so glad it's you, Jaco," I said to him. "I would have been disappointed if it was anyone else. And you look very handsome tonight, by the way."

He smiled at me and took my hand. "You look beautiful," he said softly. "This is my dream date as well, you know."

We sat in the back seat holding hands, as if to comfort and reassure each other, for the rest of the short taxi drive. In only fifteen minutes it pulled up outside my favourite restaurant. I wondered which one of us would pay (and how could Jaco pay?), but the taxi driver said that everything had been taken care of for us.

We walked into the building and upstairs to the restaurant, which was at the back overlooking the lake. A waiter immediately showed us to our table, outside on the broad balcony with a view of the sun setting over the water, so it shone like liquid gold. We were the only ones outside, so that our dinner together would be completely private.

That was the most memorable dinner of my life. Not only was the food delicious, but also it was just as Laura had said it would be. Everybody accepted Jaco and I as a couple, and there were no stares or whispers because I was on a date with a young teenaged boy. It seemed that when they looked at him, they saw a fully-grown man, because I ordered a half bottle of wine for us, and the wine waiter brought it for Jaco to sample first, without question.

He looked awkward and embarrassed, but he sipped tentatively at the wine and said it tasted good. When we were alone, he said that it felt wrong to be drinking wine, more than the sip he had in church, but I told him it was just for one night, and we were only having one glass each anyway. We both suddenly started laughing at how absurd the whole situation was, and wine went up our noses, and we laughed some more.

From that moment, we both began to relax and enjoy our date, receiving it as an unexpected gift from the universe that no longer needed a rational explanation. We talked to each other easily, and found plenty to say to each other. I had often wished I could have a proper conversation alone with Jaco, and now I found he was just as interesting and entertaining as I had always thought he would be. Sometimes there was a lull, but it never felt strained or uncomfortable, and I was pleased that we could sit in companionable silence together, looking into each other's eyes and smiling at each other.

When we had finished dinner, we walked to the front desk to pay, as nobody had brought us a bill. Once again, the smiling maitre d' told us that everything had been taken care of, and then handed us two movie tickets. We examined them eagerly, and saw it was for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and that the session started in ten minutes. We would have just enough time to walk to the theater.

We walked along, animatedly discussing the movie together. It turned out it was a film we had both seen before, and both loved and wanted to see again. We also talked about the books by C.S. Lewis, and debated the significance of various scenes we remembered, and compared them to the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I found myself enjoying Jaco's intelligent and original opinions, and the way his voice still tended to break whenever he got excited or vehement about anything. I remembered that teenage boys like to be complimented on their height, and I admiringly told him how tall he was growing; indeed, he was a good eight inches taller than me. He flushed with pleasure, and held my hand for the rest of the way.

We reached the movie theater and followed the directions on our tickets to find the right cinema, handing our stubs to the usher. Even our seats had been reserved for us; they were towards the back in a darkened corner. It struck me that the cinema was three-quarters empty, and that nobody else seemed to be sitting near us. Once again, we had been granted privacy for our date.

As we had arrived after the advertisements, the movie began almost as soon as we had sat down and made ourselves comfortable. The film begins with a stirring and very loud scene of a bombing raid during the London Blitz. I instinctively cuddled up to Jaco, and he put his arm around me protectively. When the bombing scenes had finished, he did not take his arm away, and as I relaxed, I slid my hand onto his thigh. I felt a tremor run through his body when I touched him, and he held me a little closer. I was very aware of how close our bodies were to each other, and how good it felt to be in physical contact with him.

There was now a heightened pleasure to seeing the movie: not only was I enjoying it more the second time, but it was intensified beyond belief by sharing it with somebody I was so attracted to, and feeling his body against mine. There was also the illicit thrill of watching Skandar Keynes on screen, thinking how cute he was, and being allowed to touch and cuddle another gorgeous dark-haired young teenage boy at the same time. Every time I thought to myself how adorable Skandar looked, I would gently stroke Jaco, and he would give me a little squeeze in return. These manifold layers of pleasure seemed to be vibrating against each other to an almost unbearable degree, as if the magic of the film had been transferred directly into the magic that existed between us.

When Lucy walked through the wardrobe into a land of winter, I gave an involuntary gasp at the thought that we too had entered our own wardrobe into a magical world that was more wonderful and breathtaking than we had ever imagined. Jaco leaned down and kissed me on the cheek as if he understood, then I nuzzled against him, placing little kisses lightly on his face. I put my arms around him, and our lips met. Feeling his soft mouth open made me giddy with longing for him, and the gentle pressure of his tongue moving against mine felt fantastic. As we kissed, I ran my fingers through his hair, now completely dry and as shaggy as ever, and moved my hand on his thigh closer to his groin. He moved his arm around me slightly so his hand was now against the side of my breast, and held it there while we kissed.

We did not kiss continuously throughout the movie, but often stopped and kissed each other again, with our hands and mouths exploring each other with greater assurance and passion each time. By the final scenes of the movie, I was rubbing him directly on his groin, feeling his erection get impressively hard, while he held my breasts, his mouth fastened to mine as if he never wanted to stop.

When the lights came up, we were both flushed and our eyes bright with excitement. We looked at each other, and then looked away, suddenly feeling embarrassed now that the movie was over. We walked out of the cinema, and I began wondering what would happen next. Should I take Jaco home with me? And if so, how would I get him back to his family before midnight?

Directly outside the movie theater was the taxi we had originally taken, the driver standing on the pavement to attract our attention, giving us an ironic grin, as if he knew what we had been doing. I was relieved to know we would at least be getting home okay, and the driver ushered us into the back seat. As we drove through the dark streets, Jaco leaned over and began kissing me again. I had a vague feeling we shouldn't be doing this in the taxi, but his hand slid under my skirt and began stroking my thigh until I no longer cared about anything but being with him and pleasing him.

When the taxi arrived at its destination, I looked up from kissing Jaco and was astonished to see that we were not at my house, but outside a large and expensive-looking hotel. I asked the driver why he had brought us here, but he told us that everything had been arranged for the evening, and handed Jaco a key, telling him it unlocked our room. Thanking the driver, we walked into the hotel feeling dazed. We did not need to sign in because we already had our key, and the desk clerk only looked up briefly and gave us a quick nod and smile as we crossed the lobby.

We entered the elevator together, and I told Jaco I was always frightened in elevators, so he wrapped his arms around me lovingly as if to shield me from my fear. When we arrived at the right floor, we walked along the corridor until we found the room number corresponding to the number on our key. Jaco unlocked the door, and we walked in, to discover a room in rich colours and fabrics that heightened the senses and gave a feeling of being completely enclosed and secluded from the outside world.

There was a huge bed with a white damask bedspread in the centre of the room, the lace-edged sheets turned down invitingly, but suddenly we both felt too shy to approach it, and sat down on a red velvet sofa on the other side of the room. We sat in rather awkward silence for a few moments, and then Jaco looked at his watch and said we still had nearly two hours until midnight.

There was a courtesy tray on the table in front of us set out with tea, coffee, hot chocolate, champagne, fresh fruit and mint chocolates. More to make conversation than anything else, I asked Jaco what he would like. He asked for hot chocolate, and I poured us both a cup; it was frothy and creamy and reminded me of the hot drink that Jadis gives to Edmund in the snow. Indeed that scene in the movie had given me a distinct feeling of guilty discomfort, because it was clearly meant to represent an older woman manipulating and taking advantage of a vulnerable young boy for her own selfish needs.

I looked at him and said with a grimace, "I feel like the White Witch seducing poor Edmund with Turkish delight in the movie."

He moved closer to me and said reassuringly, "You're not a witch, and you're not seducing me. I want to be here with you; I told you in the beginning, this is my dream date too. And these chocolates," he added with a grin, taking a couple from the crystal bowl, "are not Turkish delight." He popped one into my mouth, and ate the other himself, before kissing me briefly on the lips.

Feeling slightly better, I sipped my hot drink and decided to make a full confession. "You know Jaco, I've been looking at you in church for months now, maybe even more than a year. I can't help myself; you're just so handsome and sexy, and you make me want you so badly that I can't think straight."

I leaned over and put my hand on his leg, gently nuzzling his neck and throat, and noticing how good he smelt, a sweet tangy odor that blended with the chocolate to make me feel dizzy, as if looking down from a great height onto a scene of unimaginable beauty and splendour.

"I've looked at you sometimes too," he said bashfully. "I've looked at you here," as he placed his hand on the V of my neckline.

"I know, I've caught you looking," I laughed, and playfully pushed his face between my breasts, until he laughed as well, and kissed my cleavage.

He pulled down the neckline of my shirt so that the tops of my breasts were completely exposed, and he could see the white corselet pushing them upwards towards his eager mouth. He began caressing my breasts and rubbing my nipples until I started moaning with desire, then I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hands over his smooth torso. I could feel his ribs and hipbones, and then I stroked his abdomen until he gave a little gasp, because my hand was right near his groin.

We pulled together into a close embrace and kissed more passionately than we ever had before; at the same time we were touching each other all over our bodies, and starting to undress one another.

Jaco stood up and guided me toward the bed. "I think it's time you made me a man," he said gently.

"You already are a man," I said with a catch in my voice.

Then we were between the sheets together, holding each other close and kissing each other all over our bodies until nothing in the world mattered except what was happening between us in that bed. I could feel his satiny skin against mine, and taste peppermint and chocolate on his breath when our mouths were joined together.

Making love with Jaco surpassed my wildest dreams, and transcended my deepest fantasies; the waves of bliss and pleasure from feeling him inside me went on and on, at a higher and higher pitch, until I thought I would die from them. Perhaps I already had died and gone to heaven, floating on the fluffy snow-white clouds of the bed. At the moment of climax, I know I cried out how beautiful he was, how wonderful he felt, how sweet it was to be with him at that moment.

Afterwards he lay in my arms with his head nestled on my breast, while I gently stroked his silky black hair. He had a little smile on his lips, as if he had learned some delightful secret or solved a long-standing puzzle.

"I love you, Jaco," I whispered to him, but his eyes had already closed and he was asleep. I kissed his long dark eyelashes, and saw from the clock beside the bed that there was just over half an hour until midnight. I vowed not to waste a single second of our allotted time, that I would stay awake and enjoy feeling Jaco against me for as long as possible. But in only a few minutes, I felt myself falling into sleep.

When I woke up, it was morning, and I was alone in my own bed. Of course, I thought, it was only a dream, albeit one that was extremely detailed and convincing. We have all woken from dreams and continued to believe in their reality for some time after waking, finding it impossible to believe that something so authentic could be the imaginary product of our subconscious.

That would have been the end of it, except that whenever I saw Jaco again, there seemed to be a secret current of understanding between us, never voiced or made concrete. Sometimes I found him gazing at me with profound concentration, as if trying to communicate with me using only his large brown eyes. Whenever certain words came up in general conversation, such as "snow," "wardrobe," or "chocolate," Jaco and I would catch each other's eyes and give each other a furtive little smile.

At the Harvest Festival in September, the church gave a potluck supper at the community center after the blessing, and I attended with the rest of the congregation. There was such a crowd that I could not get anywhere near the table, and sat alone in a chair at the edge of the room. Jaco came up to me, and without a word, offered me a cup of hot chocolate. I looked startled, but thanked him for his kindness. Then he gave an enigmatic smile, and handed me a chocolate wrapped in gold paper, before disappearing into the crush.

When I examined it, I saw that it was the same brand of mint chocolate that we had eaten at the hotel. Then I knew for sure that Jaco and I had shared the same date and the same dream.

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