by Mia Archer
Sure there was the night I saw her dancing on stage, but that was different. It wasn't the same as seeing her in my apartment.
“So I was thinking we could maybe watch a movie or…"
I let the unspoken implication hang between us. I didn't want her to think I was assuming we were going to get down to business right away, but that's pretty much what it meant when you invited someone over to watch a movie.
At least that's what it had meant the last time I was dating. Admittedly it had been about a year or so because I was too busy with work to think about a dating life.
I was getting away from myself though. Concentrate on the date happening in front of me right now. Not the dates that hadn't been happening for the past year for various reasons.
“Oh my God," she said. "Is that Kart Racers?”
I looked down to the pile of video games sitting to the right of my flat screen. Sure enough there was Kart Racers sitting near the top. I was usually more of a PC gamer, but when I did game on a console that was one of my favorites.
"Of course," I said. "Do you play?"
"It's only one of my most favorite games!" she said, her voice dripping with excitement.
I tried my best to hide my disappointment. After all, it was something fun we could do together. Still, I couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. I'd invited her over here in the hopes that we might do a little making out and heavy petting. Maybe do something similar to what went down that night at the strip club.
I didn't mind playing video games, but playing video games meant there wouldn't be as much time for other things.
Damn.
Still, if the girl was into playing Kart Racers then I couldn't be completely disappointed.
"If you want to…"
"I'd love to!" she said. "My roommate Tiffany isn't a fan of gaming at all. She’s always giving me shit about it."
I rolled my eyes. "I know exactly what you mean. The guys at work like to go on about how they’re all hard-core gamers, but they've forgotten their roots. None of them want to play a classic game. They're all into shooting games. I think they're just upset because I beat them every time we play."
"Really now?" Jasmine asked, the interest obvious in her voice. I knew I'd just touched a nerve with her. A nerve that every gamer has when they run up against someone who thinks they’re good at a favorite game. "How good would you say you are?"
"Good enough to have a three star rating in every game since the GameSphere version," I said. I looked at her with a sudden interest mixed with hope. Could it be there was an actual challenger standing before me? "How good are you?"
"Good enough," she said.
I noticed she was saying something without saying anything by saying she was good enough. Interesting. Interesting indeed.
I hated to think it, but thoughts of what we might be missing out on by playing a video game fled my mind. Instead I was more interested in how good she actually was. It was so rare that I found an actual challenger since most people thought it was a kids’ game. It was so much more than that, but tell that to the knuckle draggers who thought fighting each other with virtual guns was the end all be all of the gaming experience.
"So what would you say to a friendly challenge?" I asked.
"That could be fun," she replied, obviously trying to sound cool and casual.
Oh yeah. This was getting very interesting. Not where I expected date night to go, but it was a good direction regardless.
I fired up the first race and it was immediately obvious that Jasmine was good. Really good. Maybe even as good as me.
Maybe better, as much as I hated to admit it. I stuck my tongue out and leaned forward in concentration.
"It's a damn shame they got rid of the bikes for this game," she said.
I couldn't agree with her more, and that agreement caused a momentary distraction which allowed her to get in a nasty shot with a red shell and she sailed across the finish line a split second ahead of me.
"That was dirty pool!" I said.
"I won, didn't I?" she asked.
"Well just you wait. That was only the first game.”
“Don't feel too bad," Jasmine said. "You're really good at this. Almost as good as me."
I let out a growl. Nobody insulted my gaming ability like that, thank you very much! If she was going to play dirty then I could play dirty too.
I brought up the next race. This time I kept all my focus on the screen and not on her. At least until the last lap when she was slightly ahead of me and I only had one green shell left. A green shell that would shoot off in whatever direction I fired it. Not even a homing shell that would do all the work for me.
Damn.
But if she could play dirty then I could play dirty too. I moved my foot out and rubbed it against hers. I felt her jump, and that jump translated into her controller which in turn moved to her player on screen.
That was enough of a distraction to keep her in one place long enough that I fired off my shell which slammed into her and gave me the victory.
I sailed through the finish line and this time she was the one turning and glaring at me.
"Not fair," she said. Her lip jutted out in a sexy little pout that I tried to ignore, but it was difficult.
"How is that any different from what you did to me?"
"I was just talking to you about game mechanics," she said. "You were really playing dirty. Using your sexiness as a weapon!"
I blushed and turned back to the screen. Using my sexiness as a weapon? Had she really just phrased it that way?
Still, I couldn't help but smile at her assessment of what I'd done. If my sexiness was a weapon then I was more than happy to use it. Video games were serious business, and I’d use any weapon in my arsenal.
Especially when it seemed like she might be better than me. It was something I hated to admit, but here we were.
"So it seems like we’re pretty evenly matched," she said.
"Honestly it looks like you might be a little better than me," I replied.
"I'm glad you can see greatness when you're in its presence," she said. "But we really are pretty even. What would you say to making things more interesting?"
I turned to her and she licked her lips. Something about her made me think she was suddenly getting back to the roots of this date night. Back to what I'd been hoping would happen when we sat down to watch a movie together.
And the way she licked her lips and looked me up and down left no doubt in my mind what she was going for. Still, I had to play the game.
That was part of the fun.
"What exactly did you have in mind?" I asked.
"I think you know what I have in mind," she said. "The same thing you had in mind when you brought up Netflix on your PlayStation before I interrupted you with this game."
"And what did…"
She grinned and leaned in closer. So close that her lips almost brushed against mine, but not quite. Yeah, if I was using my sexiness as a weapon then she was doing the same right about now.
"I think we both know what we want out of tonight," she said. "But how about we have some fun with it?"
I opened my mouth to say something, but I had trouble finding my voice. I was afraid my voice would crack or something if I tried to speak. Finally I cleared my throat and managed to get it under control.
"So what were you thinking?"
"How about strip Kart Racing?”
I blinked. Okay then. Not what I was expecting, but I was interested.
"Strip Kart Racing?”
She leaned in and kissed me. Fire flew out from where her lips brushed against mine. God knew she could turn me into a melting puddle of hormonal goo with just a simple touch and I loved it!
"Exactly!" she said, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "I'm sure you've played strip poker?"
"Actually I haven't," I said.
"Oh. Well you know how it's played?"
I fixed her with an "are you fucking kidd
ing me?” look.
"Just making sure," she said.
"So what are the terms of this game?” I asked.
"I should think that would be obvious," she said. "Every time one of us wins the other loses an article of clothing. Sound fair?"
"I suppose that's fair enough," I said. I swallowed. I was suddenly very nervous.
This was new. Something fun, but something new. And I couldn't wait to try it out.
I brought up another game. Got us ready. Our racers came up on screen and then the little guy showed up with his stoplight. The beeping started, and I felt butterflies dancing in my stomach.
This was going to be the most fun race I'd ever run in my life.
12
Jasmine
Taylor seemed almost reluctant to go ahead with this plan. It occurred to me that maybe there was something to that. After all, I was so used to taking my clothes off as a part of my job that taking my clothes off as a part of a game didn't seem like that big of a deal to me.
Even if it sort of was a big deal.
It had been so long since I was with a girl I was into rather than a girl I was with because it was something to pass the time, a convenient tryst that fell into my lap because of work, that I'd forgotten what this could feel like with someone I really cared about.
But with Taylor it was real. It was hot. And I found myself wanting more and more of her.
I shivered as I looked her over. As I wondered if she would go for this.
"So what do you say?" I asked, trying not to betray how much I wanted this. Though there was a catch in my voice. And I felt like she had to see the way I shivered.
There was a pause. A long moment of hesitation that stretched out. That drove me wild.
She was killing me here. Finally she smiled and relief washed over me.
"I think that sounds nice," she said.
I breathed a relieved sigh. For a moment I’d worried that maybe I'd taken things too far too fast.
"So you’ve really never done something like this before?" I asked.
"Not really," she said. "What about you?"
I shrugged. "I've played the occasional game of strip poker, but never something like this. Never with a video game."
A smile split Taylor's face. "In that case I guess it's going to be the first time for both of us!”
Trying something out for the first time with Taylor. Yeah, that sounded like a pretty nice idea. I took in a breath and sighed. That sounded really fucking nice.
I licked my lips. I tried to keep the shuddering that threatened to overwhelm my body under control. It had been a long time since I'd felt anything like this. It had been so very long since I allowed myself to get carried away like this.
The first race was a good one. It was obvious we were both trying pretty hard, but by the end it was also obvious that competition brought out the best in Taylor. She went across the finish line first and I stared at the screen which taunted me with a stunning defeat. I looked at her and she couldn't have looked more happy about her victory.
"What can I say?" she said. "I perform well under pressure."
"I'll say," I said.
"So?" Taylor asked.
I decided to take the easy out everybody took starting out in a game like this. I pulled one shoe off and kicked it to the side.
Taylor looked down and her eyes narrowed. "Hold on a second. You can't do that! A pair of shoes should count as one thing."
"We never came up with that rule ahead of time," I said. "Besides, that's not fair. You're not even wearing shoes or socks!"
“That's not my fault," she said. "Now come on."
Ultimately what decided me was that we were playing this game with an obvious ending in mind. And I wanted to get to that obvious ending as soon as possible. The tension in the room was driving me wild.
So I was more than happy to take both my shoes off and kick them to the side.
I looked at her and grinned. "Happy now?"
“For now," she said. "I'll be better after a few more wins though."
"You wish," I said.
We went back and forth several times. She’d win a game and I’d win a game. It got to the point where I was sitting on the couch in nothing but a bra and panties and she sat next to me in her tank top and panties. It was pretty obvious she wasn't wearing a bra under her pajama top.
That had been pretty obvious from the moment I walked into her apartment, and it had been difficult not to get lost in the distraction.
But distractions were the last thing I needed. Especially when I needed to focus on winning.
The next round started. The stop light turned green. We were off. I used every bit of skill I’d mustered over years of playing these games. I did power slides across curves. I boosted at all the right spots. I took a shortcut I'd learned from watching ghost data I'd downloaded from the Internet trying to figure out the best way to get through a course. I put everything that I had into this, and I still lost.
It's not like I lost legitimately, though. No, we were getting to the end and I felt Taylor moving closer and closer. I felt the heat of her thigh pressing against my own and it was pure ecstasy and pure torture.
It was also distracting enough that I was in danger of losing the game, but I was ready to lose. I was ready for this to reach its natural conclusion. To go where it had been going since the moment I agreed to come over to her apartment.
So I made some subtle changes to my play style. I started tapping the B button which activated the brake and suddenly I wasn't doing as well. It was little things, the sort of thing only a skilled player could do to make it look like they were losing without looking like I was losing on purpose.
It was still difficult. We were neck and neck. We were so close that it was anyone's guess who was going to win even if I was trying my damnedest to lose this one. We were on a course that was one of my favorites, after all, and I was good at it.
The things I do for love.
Finally at the very end it was obvious that Taylor was going to lose even with all of my subtle efforts at throwing the game, so I slammed down on the B button right before I hit the finish line.
Taylor blew past me and let out a whoop of triumph, and then she seemed to realize exactly what I’d done. Taylor turned and stared in disbelief.
"Why did you do that?" she asked.
I turned and grinned. Shrugged. "What can I say? I’m ready for the games to be over."
Taylor seemed to realize exactly what was going on. Exactly what I was ready for. What I'd been ready for since I walked through the door.
That shivering and shuddering was threatening again. I was going to lose it. I stared into her eyes.
"I think it might be fun if you helped. You won so it's only fair that you help me take off my last bit of clothing."
She looked me up and down. Her eyes took in my bra and underwear. It was lacy and red. Something I never wore at work. Something I put on especially for her. Only for her.
Everything was for her.
"Which one am I taking?" she asked, looking down to my panties and up to my bra.
"Whichever one you want," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
She reached out tentatively. She seemed hesitant. As though she was almost afraid to touch me. It was a hell of a moment. I licked my lips and nodded. Let her know this was okay. That I wanted this.
At least I was screaming that at her mentally. I hoped she got the picture. I was giving her one hell of an invitation. And she took it.
Her hand reached around and she pulled one strap of my bra down. Then the other. I moved my shoulders forward to give a little bit of extra oomph to my cleavage. She seemed to notice. Her eyes went wide as she stared at my breasts still encased by that red lacy number.
God I needed this. God I wanted it so much.
Her hands continued their exploration. She unsnapped my bra and I felt the familiar loosening. I leaned forward and there was nothing to hold it in place. It fel
l forward, exposing me to Taylor. I felt more exposed than I had in a good long while, and that's including when I was up on stage dancing for customers.
Taylor stared. She seemed enraptured by my body. It was nothing like the men who stared at me at work. There was something more there. Something deeper.
Hell, I felt the same as I looked at her. As her tight clothes made it perfectly obvious what she was hiding under her tank top.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"I think you're beautiful," she replied. "So beautiful."
Her hand was still around my back where she'd undone my bra, but not for long. She traced a delicate line around my back, to the side of my breast. And then she cupped it. I closed my eyes and sighed. Wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in towards me. God I needed this so bad.
“Yes… Touch me Taylor," I gasped.
Okay, so maybe that was a cheesy line, but it seemed like the sort of situation that called for cheesy lines.
And touch me she did. Her hand roamed all around. Exploring, feeling me, sending perfect little pleasurable tingles running through my body. I gasped and my breathing picked up. My breasts heaved as I pressed them against her hands. She moved up my shoulder then down to my stomach. She traced a circle around my belly button then she was moving down. Down.
Down until she found the center of my pleasure. Until she was pressing inside me and the feelings that coursed through me when she was touching my breasts were nothing compared to the feeling of her body pressing into my own.
I wrapped my arms around her. Gasped. Threw my head back and pulled her body against mine as she invaded me.
I yelled her name. I cried out over and over, her name passing my lips with every movement. As she swirled and pressed and manipulated and did everything I loved.
She was a master at work, and I loved it. I wanted more of it. I wanted it all.
She locked eyes with me. Her body over mine. Our breasts pressing together, our stomachs pressing together, the smell of her, the feel of her hair falling down around me, the sound of my cries, quiet and gentle and as insistent as her fingers moving inside me.
