“Has anyone ever told you that you have magic hands?” Beth asked Jake. She was sitting on the sofa and he was standing behind the sofa and massaging her shoulders. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“In the army,” Jake answered.

“Really?” Beth said. “That’s kind of unexpected.”

“I was trained as a medic and one of the skills we were taught was how to give massages,” Jake explained.

“Ooh, Army Strong,” Beth said in more of a moan than a statement as Jake’s hands started inching down from her shoulders toward her breasts. She was wearing a tank top and shrugged her shoulders enough to enable Jake to slip his hands beneath the thin tank top material and he began to knead her breasts.

“Perhaps you should come out from behind that sofa,” Beth said in a throaty voice. Jake moved around the sofa so that he was standing in front of her. She was still sitting and his crotch was opposite her face. She could see the bulge in his jeans.

“I think it’s time to see if your wand is as magical as your hands are,” Beth breathlessly said as she unhooked his belt, unfastened the waist button, pulled down his zipper, and let his jeans slip down around his ankles.

Jake backed off a little. “I need to warn you, Beth, that I suffered a combat injury and I have a prosthetic….”

“Just shut up,” Beth interrupted. She grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. Her eyes grew wide and then she let out a gasp.

“Oh my God! What the hell is that?” Beth screamed.
“It’s my magic wand,” Jake said. “Army Strong!”

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Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, which asks us to weave a tale in which an item of magic plays a part in your story. Image credit: Google Images – labeled for re-use.