Kinky Carnival Games (A Romance Novella): Maybe Mandy 1

by Chris Genovese

  “We can leave if you really want to,” he continued. “But I promise you, this is going to be fun. And I promise you we won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

  And I promise to drain every ounce of semen you have in your ball sack.

  What? I didn’t say it. I was just thinking it.

  Needless to say, we went ahead and purchased our tickets. Game on.

  I wouldn’t say we had the place to ourselves. Plenty of couples were still milling about as we made our way in.

  “Two hours, folks,” a security guard warned us.

  “Carnies stick to a strict schedule,” Braden whispered.

  “Must be those carnie unions,” I replied.

  I liked his sense of humor and I liked even more that he seemed to get mine. Being with him wasn’t difficult. It seemed almost too easy.

  He bought us sodas and funnel cakes and we snacked while we discussed our families and talked about how he knew Vince and Susie. We talked a little bit about our jobs. He was trying to make me more comfortable, and that was nice, but comfort wasn’t exactly what I needed.

  It seemed he’d forgotten about this game we were supposed to play. As I looked around at the thinning crowds and down at the 9:30 pm mark on Braden’s watch, I realized whatever was supposed to go down here better get going before we ran out of time.

  And if I play my cards right, what’s about to go down…will hopefully be him.

  When he changed the subject to his dog, Ralphie, I’d just about had it with the bullshit.

  “You know, I’m not made of glass,” I told him.

  He stopped talking, taking my hand in his and rubbing it gently. The bit of warmth made the wind blowing around us seem chillier than it had felt just a moment before. I realized I was actually a little bit cold.

  “I don’t know what that means,” he admitted, blushing, embarrassed.

  “What?” I asked, unsure as to why he seemed ashamed.

  “You’re just so fucking hot,” he said. “And I usually get everything you say, but I have no idea what you just meant by that.”

  I laughed. I had to reel this in quickly or I might lose him.

  “It wasn’t a joke,” I informed him. “It was an invitation.”

  I put my hand on his leg beneath the tabletop and slid it up his thigh.

  “I mean I know I said I didn’t want to be here. And I might have even seemed a bit scared, but stop worrying about me.”

  Then his hand was on my knee again and his fingers were walking up my thigh, making their way up under my dress. He found the elastic of my panties, and one of his fingers dared to slip beneath it, just enough to touch the trimmed outskirts of my bikini line.

  It tickled. And my ass tightened.

  His finger played there for a second, begging for permission to enter, and I was so ready to feel his hands between my legs. I licked my top lip and he moved closer.

  He leaned in, and as his one finger slid just slightly further past the elastic, and I let out the slightest whimper, his tongue touched mine. Our wet mouths moved to the same rhythm. Braden was one hell of a kisser.

  It was soft, smooth, and sensual. And it was effortless. I didn’t have to match my style to his and he wasn’t trying to quicken or lessen his pace to be in tune with me.

  It was hot and that finger stayed in place, just moving left to right and back again, like my pubic hair was braille and this blind man was trying to consume each word in the story.

  He moved his mouth back to my ear.

  “You want to take this thing further?” he asked, his tongue once again nipping at my earlobe.

  “Uh huh,” I said with a moan.

  “Then come on,” he said as he stood.

  From where I sat, my eyes were at his waist, and right in front of me was his bulge. I don’t think he was fully erect as there was still softness beneath his dark pants, but I could kind of make out the outline of his cock, and I wanted it.

  Before the night was through he’d be hard as a rock and I planned to take all of it inside me. My chest heaved up and down as I thought of what it would be like letting him in for the first time. I pursed my lips and pressed down against my seat. I was sitting sideways on the bench, the hard plastic of it pressed against the crease of my pussy.

  He stood over me looking down with his hand held out.

  “Are you coming or what?”

  Oh you have no idea.

  And I probably could have if I’d stayed pressed against the hard bench any longer. It wasn’t the nastiness of an outdoor carnival snack shack chair that was getting me off, but the view of his manhood only inches from my face combined with my desire to rip his pants open and take him in my mouth.

  Whatever you have planned better be good.

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes and grabbed ahold of his hand.

  “Ready for round one?” he asked.

  “Just take me to the finale,” I replied.

  “I will,” he promised. “Little by little…until you’re begging for it.”

  I liked the sound of that and he seemed to like the smile that was spreading across my lips. I left my wicked little bench behind and let him lead me deeper into the carnival.

  What had started out as a sweet and normal date, suddenly seemed to intensify. Braden’s pace had quickened. He was a man on a mission and he’d made it clear that it had everything to do with pleasure.

  “Step right up! Mr. GQ, you ready to win a prize for the lady on your arm?”

  Braden broke off from his forward march and made his way over to the greasy game runner who’d been taunting him. The guy wore a green visor with a red and white candy cane-like shirt. The nametag read: Rufus.

  He stood over a set of laundry baskets lined up along the floor with wooden backboards marked with red spray-painted circles. He tossed a plastic baseball back and forth from one hand to the other.

  “Yes, my man, ready to try your hand…”

  “How much?” Braden asked.

  “Three dollars for three balls, five dollars will get you six.”

  I looked up at the purple teddy bears dangling from the colorful lights of the game stand. A few pink flamingos were peppered in among them. In any other situation, I’d love to win a prize from my man, but at the moment, taking home a stuffed animal was the farthest thing from my mind.

  “Here’s ten,” Braden said, handing over the bill.

  The man’s eyes lit up. Foot traffic passing the stand was almost nonexistent at this point and he’d probably given up on the idea that he might make some last minute cash. I had no doubt he pocketed at least some of the money he took in.

  “So that’s umm…that’s uh…twelve tries, my friend.”

  “So here’s the deal,” Braden whispered as he leaned in closer to me. “I get the first six balls. For each ball that I get into the basket, I get a request for tonight. And you can’t tell me no. Whatever I want to do to you, or whatever I want you to do to me.”

  Now this is a fucking game.

  I scrunched up the corner of my mouth, thinking about the rules. Seemed easy enough.

  “And the other six balls?” I asked.

  “All yours. Every ball you sink in the basket gives you the same power. You can either request or deny a request.”

  I had no illusions about being a star at this game. I’d suck at it. As far as I was concerned, he could use all twelve balls. I couldn’t imagine his requests being anything I’d be opposed to. I just wanted to ditch the games and go to the backseat of his car.

  “You’ve played this before, haven’t you?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

  I moved out of his way, “After you.”

  Braden stepped up to the counter and handed me his soda cup. I took a sip. The attendant tossed him a plastic ball. Braden held it up in front of his face like a basketball player about to go for the game-winning foul shot.

  He tossed it. It bounced off the backboard and c
ompletely missed the basket. I watched the ball roll across the dirt floor and laughed.

  “Just warming up,” he said.

  “Take your time. We’ve got like…I don’t know, an hour left.”

  He missed again.

  “You can borrow some of my balls if you have a strong desire to win,” I offered.

  As he was about to throw his third ball, I stepped up behind him and reached around his waist. I put my hands in his pockets and rested my head against his back.

  He didn’t throw the ball.

  I let my right hand feel around in his pocket until I found it. His dick was soft, but it was there, and I took it in my grasp. I felt it growing in my hand, lengthening and widening for a second time this night.

  “Good luck,” I whispered in his ear.

  I’d forgotten about the attendant, who had turned away from us, giggling through his chipped teeth, pretending he wasn’t watching us out of the corner of his eye.

  Braden turned his head to the right, searching for me, but I was out of his line of sight.

  I gripped his rapidly swollen member in my hand. Through the cloth of his pocket I could feel where the smooth shaft turned into the knobbed head. I gripped the head of his penis with my hand, like the claw in an arcade machine trying to pick up a prize. I rolled it around in my hand.

  With his head still turned to the side, I saw him close his eyes.

  “Let’s make a wager,” I said. “You get this ball in and I’ll give you that request plus the three for your remaining balls.”

  He didn’t answer, so I squeezed the hard helmet resting in the palm of my hand. “Deal?”

  He tried to turn towards me, obviously wanting to look eye to eye, but I gripped his cock and steered him straight ahead.

  “If you want a chance at putting this inside me, throw the ball.”

  He steadied himself, took a deep breath, and then reached back to me with the ball in his outstretched hand. “Would you mind blowing on this for luck?”

  “What is this, Ocean’s Eleven?” I asked.

  I released my grip on him and blew on the ball with what I hoped was a sexy gesture. I’d never really practiced blowing in a sensual way and I have to admit I felt a little bit ridiculous with the plastic Wiffle ball in front of my lips.

  He smiled, turned, and tossed the ball with no more hesitation. It rolled, bounced gently off the backboard, and landed in the basket.

  “Ooooooh that was good,” Braden announced.

  I reached around once more and gave his cock a squeeze.

  “You just needed a little bit of incentive,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  As we backed away from the counter, the attendant called out, “Wait, your prize. A bear or a flamingo for the lady?”

  Braden looked back at me. I shrugged my shoulders.

  “No preference?” he asked.

  I shook my head. Braden held up a hand, his finger going back and forth between the bear and bird as if he were silently doing eenie meenie. Then his finger fell and pointed towards the bear.

  I leaned against him again from behind.

  “Leave the bear. I really don’t want it. You got your points and I want a real prize.”

  The attendant sniggered and shrugged his shoulders. “I’d do what the lady asks.”

  Braden was leading me away from the games area when I did a quick inventory in my head. He had four requests. I had none. I didn’t think it would really be a problem but not having any power was bullshit. I wanted to do some things to him and I had some things in mind that I wanted him to do to me. The only way to secure my pleasure was to take control of this myself.

  “One more game. This time only I play. I need a few of these points myself,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said with a laugh. “What’s your game of choice?”

  “Where’s the dart and balloons game that always gives shitty prizes? You know the one with the 80s hair band mirrors. I won a Whitesnake one the last time I played. That’s my game.”

  He knew what I was talking about right away and helped me search for it.

  “It’s a dollar a dart. Pop five balloons and you win a mirror,” the attendant called out on our approach.

  Ha, yes, I want a freakin’ Skid Row mirror.

  I was an infant in ’89, but I knew me some 80s tunes. As Braden handed five bucks to the attendant, and I took aim, the lyrics to “I remember you” flowed through my head.

  I threw the five darts like a skilled ninja master. Well…like a semi-skilled one as I only hit balloons with three out of five darts, not enough to win the damned mirror.

  I pouted. I do that sometimes. I don’t mean to, but I’ve been told that my bottom lip protrudes just a bit. Vince says it’s adorable. Susie says it’s ridiculous. The attendant seemed to think it was somewhere in between.

  “That’s the most ridiculously adorable frown I’ve ever seen, young lady. You really want one of these cheesy mirrors?”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  Braden was already fishing his wallet out of his pocket, ready to pay whatever price he needed to, when the attendant held his hand out at the row of mirrored plaques.

  “Go ahead. Choose one. I’m guessing you’re a G&R kinda girl,” he said as he immediately reached for the Guns and Roses one.

  “Nope,” I argued. “Sebastian Bach all the way.”

  When he laughed his gut shook.

  “Haven’t heard that in a long long time,” he said as he snatched up my undeserved prize and handed it to me.

  The night was turning out okay, but it wasn’t exactly smoldering. Where was all the steamy romance I’d been promised in the car? We were running out of time. Finally, as we walked away from the dart game, Braden called in his first request.

  “I want to give you an ice bath,” he said.

  WTF?

  That was totally unexpected. An ice bath?

  How the hell are we…what is he…what the fuck?

  Mentally, I smacked a palm to my forehead, while physically I think I just looked up at the sky trying to figure out what he was thinking.

  This may be the last time I let Susie or Vince choose my date.

  “Okay…” was all I could think to say. I made sure to drag the “y” out at the end to make sure he knew I wasn’t a hundred percent into this.

  He pulled me over towards an empty playground, shrouded in darkness. All the little kids had left the carnival long ago and it seemed we were the only adults willing to spend a little time on the slides and swings.

  “Aren’t the fun rides thataway?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  Good answer.

  Braden led me to the slide, a wide one that was bright yellow in the moonlight and only stood about four feet high.

  “Lie back,” he told me.

  I was happy to oblige.

  He set his soda cup down on the platform next to us and leaned forward in a push up position over my body. It was really dark but I could see the silhouette of his face and hair while I felt the cold plastic of the slide against my ass. The thin fabric of my dress and panties did little to keep me warm. I needed Braden to heat things up and fast.

  The wind blew a little and the cold air caused goosebumps to rise on my arms. Far off in the distance I could hear people screaming on the rollercoaster, the last remaining daredevils getting all they could for their money before closing time. Here I was about to do the same.

  I wanted him to kiss me. That’s how I expected this to start. I wanted to feel his lips against mine and feel our tongues intertwine. But Braden didn’t meet me as I’d hoped. Instead, he dipped down lower and put his nose against my navel. He inhaled and slid down a little farther so that his chin rested against my dress, right against my clit.

  I felt a shudder run through my body. I glanced down and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could see him looking up at me. I lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist, digging my heel into his side, trying to hint that I wanted more than
his chin between my legs.

  This on again off again thing was driving me crazy. I didn’t know how much more my heart could take or how much wetter I could get.

  A woman’s pussy does get angry you know? For real. Mine once decided to dry up and…

  OHHHHH. Whoa.