Road Games Read online

  That would be really hot.

  I pressed down on the accelerator.

  One day she’d agreed I was a perv and told me she’d thought about me that morning when she’d dressed without underwear. Even over thousands of miles, my guts turned to butter when she told me that.

  I arrived in Denver at 11 a.m.

  She wasn’t home. I let myself in and brought my bag with. I was disappointed. (Well, actually, that didn’t begin to cover it.) She wasn’t there. My first-kiss scenarios were blown.

  I couldn’t walk through her condo, except to find the bathroom, which I simply used and then left. It felt too much like invading her space. So I drank a beer and went to sleep on her couch, falling into a realm where she was home, where she was there, or here, with me, and we were touching and kissing and…

  She was running her hands lightly through my hair, saying, “Hey, baby.”

  I moaned, turning into her hand, kissing her palm. I opened my eyes, still unsure if this was yet another vivid dream starring her or if it was actually happening. The setting sun glowed through the blinds behind her, making her look like even more of an angel.

  I ran one hand up her arm, thinking her skin was somehow softer than my imaginings, while I snaked the other around her waist, wanting to feel her near me, to know it was more than a dream.

  My right hand found the back of her neck; I sat up and pulled her closer to me with my other hand.

  First we hugged. She was warm and fit perfectly with me, her face burrowing into my neck.

  Then I pulled back to look into her incredibly deep green eyes. I had to taste her. So I leaned forward to brush my lips against hers, fondling her lips with my own, until she deepened the kiss, entering my mouth with her tongue. I met her tongue with mine, brushing mine against hers.

  The kiss test proved positive.

  Then, as I realized I wouldn’t be able to stand even if I wanted to (which I didn’t), I nipped at her lower lip. She rewarded me with a full-throated moan that came from deep inside her.

  I got still wetter.

  She straddled me, a move guaranteed to drive me absolutely insane—I loved how she had to open up for me in this position and how her jeans wrapped oh-so tightly around her lithe body. She also had on a tank top, an incredibly soft cotton tank top with an unbuttoned men’s work shirt over it.

  I couldn’t believe that I somehow got wetter from the fact that she didn’t try to hide her bra straps.

  She wrapped her legs around me and we continued kissing until I couldn’t stand it anymore: I pushed her onto her back and stretched her out, lying on top of her, molding our bodies together.

  I pressed my thigh into her pussy, tightening my muscles for maximum effect, to push against her as hard as I could.

  She groaned in response. So I kissed her again, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her crotch harder against me as I pushed into her. She spread her thighs even more, opening herself up to me entirely. I let my hands travel over her curves, grasping her thighs, her hips, fondling her waist, going up her stomach to her breasts, which I held in my hands, outlining her nipples through her bra and tank.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered into my ear. I kissed and nibbled on her neck while I slid my hands down to the hem of her tank top, caressing her tummy before easing my hand under her back and quickly undoing her bra with a snap of my fingers.

  “Sit up,” I said, pushing up from her as I started to pull her top off.

  She whimpered deep in her throat, then gasped and put her hands on mine. “Bedroom, please,” she said, looking up into my eyes with her beautiful green ones. Her long black hair pooled around her shoulders and, yet again, I imagined her on top of me, with that incredible hair cascading down over my face.

  I rose and, before she could follow, lifted her in my arms. She’d told me being carried made her feel safe and protected, so I carried her back to the bedroom, with her arms curled around my neck and her head tucked into my shoulder.

  When I laid her on the bed, she released my neck and guided my hands to the hem of her tank. She kept her hands on mine as, together, we pulled off her top and bra. I knew she’d only been intimate with a few people in her life.

  I leaned forward, kissing her, even as I held her. Going slow.

  I wanted to make sure she knew I didn’t just desire her…that I didn’t want to just have sex with her…I wanted her to trust me and believe I didn’t want to change her and didn’t want her to change. I wanted her to know I loved her.

  “You have no idea how truly beautiful you are, do you?” I pushed her onto the bed and let her continue covering herself. I let her be shy and humble and modest.

  I caressed her arms and shoulders. I cradled her head in one arm and reached down to the fly of her jeans. She covered both breasts with one of her arms while covering my hand at her zipper with the other.

  We looked into each other’s eyes and I sat up to remove my own black T-shirt and black sports bra. I was modest myself, so she only got a vague eyeful before I bent to her again, kissing her, touching and caressing her…

  I put my hand back on the zipper of her jeans.

  She grasped my hand again. “No, you first.”

  I looked into her eyes, but she glanced down my body.

  “I want you, but you need to…well…take off your clothes first.”

  “I have.”

  “I’ll get naked only after you have.”

  My mind tingled briefly at the idea of being the first one naked. But then my butch persona stepped in and stopped that momentary thought of exhibitionism. “Don’t you want to know me, personally, like you have over the phone?” I said. “Don’t you want to come for me?”

  She looked up at me, her left arm across her chest, her left hand cupping her right breast. Her right hand still covered my hand, my hand that was on the waist of her jeans, ready to open them.

  She put my hand on her zipper. “I’ll let you get me naked once you’re naked.”

  I already felt exposed, being topless in front of her, but she stayed my hand when I tried to undo her zipper.

  “No. You naked first,” she said.

  So I stood, kicked off my boots, unzipped my Levi 550s, and pulled them, with my boxers, down and off my body. I was glad the room was dark, because I didn’t like my body and couldn’t believe I was standing naked in front of this beautiful woman.

  I made to sit next to her on the bed, but she held up a hand. “No, wait, I want to see you. Turn on the light.”

  So I turned on one of the bedside lamps, then went to undo her jeans.

  She reached up to cup my breasts and squeeze my nipples. She fondled me and then teased my nipples…hard. She squeezed them as firmly as possible. She twisted them and yanked them and I was momentarily forgetting I was the butch and I was the naked one…

  Finally I reached down, undid the zipper on her jeans, stripped her naked, and, before I could lie down upon her again, she slipped a finger up inside me.

  My legs spread all by themselves. And I loved the light for letting me see her, in all her beautiful, naked glory. That same light made me feel self-conscious, made me want to cover myself, but I discovered I liked her looking at me, naked. And I liked that she could watch as that one—those two—fingers dipped inside me.

  I liked being naked for her, and I liked the feeling of her inside me.

  But I also loved touching her. I loved sliding my fingers into her, inside her. I sucked and kissed and bit and nibbled on her exposed nipples. I took one between my teeth and teased it, pulled it as hard and far as I could.

  “Yes, please!” she cried.

  I’d been dreaming—fantasizing—about us being flesh to flesh, bare skin to bare skin, since I first told her I’d liked her. And now she was naked, I was naked, and, as our bodies slid together, I pulled her hand from my body and held it over her head, against the bed, and fucked her cunt. And while I did, she held me to her with a hand around my neck.

  As I
kissed her, sliding my fingers in and out of her while flicking her clit with my thumb, I switched from holding her down to just holding her, and she moaned and writhed against me.

  “You feel so good, honey,” I whispered into her ear.

  She wrapped a leg around me, pulling us unbelievably close together, and ran her fingernails playfully down my back. “Please, I’ve wanted…so long…”

  I raised up so I could look into her eyes when I was inside her. She took a deep breath as she met my gaze. And then we kissed with our eyes open, looking into each other, seeing into one another’s souls, entering each other’s bodies with our tongues while I filled her with yet another finger…

  She’d said that she wasn’t sure how much she could take. She liked, when she was on the brink, hearing what I might like. Over the phone, with my voice guiding her actions and thoughts, when I told her something I might really like to do to her, that could be enough to send her over.

  And now, I looked down at her—“Soon you’ll be looking up at me looking down at you,” I’d said during our last phone call—and it was as if we were both thinking the same thing at the same time, because she spread her legs farther still.

  “Yes,” she said.

  I slid yet another finger into her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  She was naked for me. She was giving it up, for me. I was inside her, and she was enjoying it. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are, do you?” I said, taking in her full, lush breasts, the way she opened her thighs for me, the triangle of dark hair between her legs…

  And I immediately realized I’d misstepped. I could almost feel her pulling away from me even as I looked down at her. “I have a feeling you can get sex just by breathing,” she’d said to me during one of our first phone calls, before she’d let me talk her out of her clothing.

  I stilled my fingers inside her and pulled her tight to me with my other hand, holding her. “You know I want you and want to be yours, and yours alone, right?” I whispered into her ear.

  I felt her relax under me again.

  I lifted my head so she could see the truth in my eyes. “I love you.”

  She pulled me down, holding me tightly against her. “Please tell me you’re not just saying that.”

  “I’m not just saying that. I wouldn’t. I love you.”

  She put her hand over my hand, the hand between her legs, and slowly guided me in and out of her again. Slowly, cautiously, carefully.

  “Will you be mine?” I asked. “Do you want me?”

  “Yes. Yes, please. God, yes.” She closed her eyes as her breathing grew harsher.

  “No, look at me,” I said. “Because I’m about to make you mine.” I reached over to pump some lube into my hand.

  She saw how deliberately I was coating my hand, and she knew what I meant to do. I felt her relax around and under me. “Yes.”

  And we both watched as I slid my fist into her. She began gyrating her hips harder and faster than before.

  “Yes,” was her mantra, urging me forth, making my fist go all the way inside her.

  I lay down to explore her cunt with my tongue, with my mouth. I drove into her with my fist, licking her from top to bottom and back up again.

  She yanked at my hair, drawing me closer to her, farther into her. Her legs tightened around my head, and I pushed them apart with my shoulders even as she arched to shove herself more completely into my mouth.

  I moved my free hand all over her body, wanting her to feel every bit as naked and exposed as she actually was. I ran my hand up over her tummy, to caress one breast, then the other. To pull and tug at one nipple, then the other. I ran my tongue up and down her, sucking her clit into my mouth as I explored her insides with my hand.

  “Yes, oh God, yes, please,” she said, moving all over the bed, so I had to hold her down with my free hand. “Yes! Yesyesyes!”

  *

  Well, maybe this is all in my imagination. Maybe just my hopes. ’Cause I didn’t really drive to Denver. But I am flying there next week…

  Variations on a Game

  Saggio Amante

  Marielle lifted the marble object from the blue velvet box, slowly separating it from the parchment paper in which it was wrapped. She unrolled the paper carefully and focused on words written in a familiar hand: Those who have leisure for the diversions of this game cannot find one that is more advantageous or more satisfying—to the vanquished as well as to the victor. Which will you be?

  She lifted the paper to her nose and inhaled the sweet jasmine scent that lingered on its surface. A fleeting vision danced through her mind—a woman…tall, with eyes like coal…and golden skin…laughing…taunting…Which will you be? Which will you be?—before dissolving into nothingness.

  She reached for the object that had been wrapped in the parchment, cradling it in her palm, caressing its smoothness. She rubbed it against her cheek and lips, savoring its coolness against her skin. The piece was black, elongated, and slightly curved. It matched precisely the seven other pieces of like shape that formed a row across the board, facing eight white clones that stood at attention on the other side of the checkered jade surface.

  Flickering candles placed strategically throughout the room lent a dim light, and the figures arrayed on the inlaid board in front of her cast odd shadows against the tabletop. On opposite sides of the board, along the top and bottom edges, behind the tall sentinels, stood eight white and eight black figures, all in poses so erotic that the mere sight of them fueled her arousal.

  She wore only a black silk robe, embroidered with gold dragons, which she had found lying on an enameled credenza against a red wall. The robe was tied at the waist with a single silk cord. Her long black hair was upswept and held in place by two red lacquered sticks. Her feet were bare.

  She placed the final piece on the board and sat in the ornately carved dragon chair with her arms resting loosely on its arms. From across the room the soothing sound of water dripping from a bamboo fountain filled the air. The phone on a small side table to her left rang with the tone of a Zen gong, its vibrations caressing her skin. She lifted the receiver to her ear and waited, her breaths becoming more rapid with each passing second. She was wet with anticipation and ached to relieve the pressure that was steadily building between her legs. Yet she did nothing. Instead she sat, silent and unmoving, until she heard the voice she had been longing to hear.

  "You look beautiful tonight," the voice purred. "I've been waiting for you."

  Marielle's breath caught in her throat. "I want to see you this time," she said softly, "play you face-to-face."

  A deep laugh echoed provocatively in Marielle's ear. "You'll see me soon enough, my darling. But I wonder—when you do, will you be the winner or the spoils?"

  "I'll mate you in five moves," Marielle replied quickly.

  Her opponent laughed again. “Empecemos, entonces. Let us begin, then. I'll even give you the advantage. Your play."

  Marielle fingered the white pawn at rank 2, file f. "Pawn to f4."

  "Ah, you are too easy," the voice teased warmly.

  "I've only made one move. Don't you think you're being a bit arrogant?"

  "Perhaps…or perhaps not," the voice taunted. "Confidence is not always arrogance. Pawn to e5. Your breasts are beautiful. Drop the robe off your shoulders."

  "Where are you? Can you see me?" Marielle scanned the room. High in the far right corner a red light blinked at her. "You can, can't you?"

  "Does that bother you?"

  "You said I would have the advantage, but it appears the advantage is yours."

  "Does it? Appearances can be deceiving, you know. Let me see your breasts."

  The voice was gentle yet commanding, and Marielle complied without protest. With two fingers, she lightly scraped her nails across her left breast, sliding the robe off it carefully. She slipped her hand underneath her breast and pushed it up, twisting her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. "My pawn takes yours at e5. Are y
ou trying to lose?"

  "Ah…you tease me, but one breast will do for now. I'll fill my mouth with you soon enough. To lose a pawn is nothing. Sometimes it is the sacrifice that wins the game. Pawn to d6."

  "Pawn takes d6. You are trying to lose." Marielle's voice cracked as the canvas of her mind filled with alternating visions of coal black eyes staring intently at her while a hungry mouth descended slowly toward her to suck first at her center and then at her breasts.

  "Bishop takes pawn at d6. Am I trying to lose? Or am I coming after you?" The seductive inflection in her opponent's voice was unmistakable.

  "And what will you do if you get me? Pawn to g3." Marielle reached between her legs and dipped one finger in the pearly dewdrops forming on her dark, silky hair.

  "Queen to g5. You're wet, aren't you? Wet for me. And hot…so hot. I can feel your heat from here."

  "The thought of you makes me hot. Queen's knight to f3. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about touching me?" Marielle stared directly at the blinking red light as she brought her finger to her lips and ran her tongue slowly along its length.

  "Queen takes pawn at g3. Check." The voice laughed. "I'm thinking about winning this game, though I must admit you are an enticing distraction."

  "Pawn takes queen at g3. You can't have been concentrating too hard on this game. You've given up your queen. Who has the power now?"

  "I do, my love. I've always had the power," the voice replied as if the answer were never in dispute. "Bishop takes pawn at g3. Mate."

  Marielle removed the white pawn from the board and held it tenderly, caressing its tip with her fingers. She ran her hand along its shaft slowly—up and down, up and down—enjoying the sensation of the cold marble against her palm and fantasizing its cool hardness slipping inside to fill her. She held the pawn toward the camera, then reverently placed it on the table. Finally, she turned her king on its side and conceded with a whisper, "Mate."

  She stood and pulled the tie at her waist, letting the robe drape completely open and then slip off her shoulders to fall in a heap at her feet. She reached to remove the red lacquered sticks from her hair and shook the long blue-black tresses loose to tumble against her back and over her breasts. A sliver of light came from behind her and a large shadow moved across the floor. Her body shook involuntarily as she felt the feral heat of the body that had stopped just centimeters from her own.