"Hello, Marcus residence." Harriett had gotten up from the table to take the call. There's a house rule that we don't answer the phone during dinner. That's why we have an answering machine. My wife violates the rule regularly. "Yes. Nice to meet you. That's nice. How sweet of you. Oh, that's too bad. Yes, he does."

Since I'm the only "he" in our house, my ears perked up.

Harriett let her vegetarian meatloaf get colder. "I don't think that will be a problem. Harvey likes performing. It's no trouble at all. Let me check our calendar." My wife examined the oversized sheets on the size of the fridge. "He's free that day. All right. Goodbye."

I chewed carefully and swallowed. "Who was that?"

"Mrs. Heller. Amanda's mother."

"Who's Amanda?" I looked over at Anna, whose face was bright red.

"She just transferred in from California. Her dad's job got relocated," Anna said.

"Yes, and she's invited Anna to her birthday party," my wife continued.

Birthday? Not again!

"It's my fault, Dad. I told her about your talent," said Anna.

Taking girl's cherries on their birthdays?

"Mrs. Heller's entertainment for her daughter's party got called away. Something urgent or he wouldn't have cancelled at the last minute. Anna mentioned to Amanda that you were an amateur magician," said my wife.

Yes, I make young women's virginity disappear.

"You're always practicing and telling me how you'd like to someday perform in front of an audience," said Anna.

Sex with observers? Oh, she meant magic tricks, like pulling a bunny out of a hat.

"Besides, we've spent thousands of dollars on that hobby of yours. This way, at least it will do somebody some good. I told her you'd be happy to substitute. I've marked it on the calendar."

"Make sure you practice, Dad."

"Your father won't disappoint, will you Harvey?"

"No, dear." No matter what comes up.

I packed up my long black magician's tails and all of my props into a soft-sided bag. If I was going to be standing in for a professional, I decided to bring more than the typical tricks. I had once seen an act that had a spectacular finish. When I inquired about the cost of the effect, it was well beyond my budget for my hobby. But I'm a pretty resourceful guy, so I constructed my own version of the effect. There was a flat battery pack sewn into the back of my long-tailed tuxedo jacket with wires coming up the arms. Just behind the edge of the sleeves, two rods would emit a shower of harmless sparks. I'd tested it out on my lab bench, but this was the first time I'd be using it, full scale in front of an audience.

At the Heller's home, Anna and I met Mrs. Heller and Amanda. I hoped none of them noticed me staring at Amanda's chest. Her tits seemed to protrude straight out from her body. A telltale strap at the neckline of her t-shirt told me they had support, but their 'here I am, feel me' challenge made my palms sweat. Amanda took Anna away to change for the swimming pool.

Mrs. Heller escorted me to a changing room off the garage. I made sure all of my illusions and props were tucked away in the right places, to be exhibited by slight of hand at the appropriate moments. I almost forgot to refill the water ball used for the squirting lapel flower gag. After I was all dressed, I watched through the small window as the young folks frolicked in and around the pool. In particular, I couldn't take my eyes off Amanda's breasts, with only a small bikini top to cover them. After the group swam and ate, they gathered on the concrete patio for my show.

Mrs. Heller made the introduction, "And now, all the way from the other side of town, to astound and confound you, I present the Great Marcus!"

There was polite applause. Amanda, the birthday girl, sat in front, Indian style, a t-shirt over her bikini top. Her exposed bottoms followed the curve of her cunt, riding high into the crease. The pants that matched my formal tails were baggy, so I didn't think my bloated penis was visible to the audience.

I performed all of the standards - restore a cut rope, linking metal rings, even a guinea pig from a flaming pan. Mrs. Heller had given me the little rodent as a prop to surprise her daughter. Amanda hugged her mom and put the guinea pig in a cage her mom brought outside.

For one of my more mature tricks, I had Amanda stand and face her friends. My hand was on her shoulder. I had to will myself to keep from letting it slide down and grope her. This was the "pull a bra out of a woman's blouse" gag. The bra was extra sized so the audience would laugh and the participant would get embarrassed, even though it isn't hers. Instead of turning red, Amanda thrust out her tits proudly at the audience.

It was time for the squirting flower trick. I conjured up a bunch of flowers from an empty cylinder that Amanda held. Instead of taking the water on the face, Amanda backed up and let the stream of water spray her breasts. She was performing in her own wet t-shirt contest, waving the winner's bouquet. Everyone cheered and applauded.

It was time for the big finish. I asked everyone to move back. The crowd was near the edge of the pool. I threw a magic ball up into the air and raised both arms. It disappeared as a shower of sparks shot from my hands. Unfortunately, I had not adjusted the intensity properly. Sparks shot much too far. A few landed on Amanda, and her t-shirt began to smoke. A quick thinking kid grabbed a plastic bucket and doused Amanda's shirt with water. Plastered against her, the unsubtle curves and contours of her chest were in full view.

"Look, he's on fire!" someone shouted.