The Game Ch. 05

Foreword: To my fans and new readers:

Before you jump into Chapter 5 of this saga, I thought I would take a minute to tell you a few things about myself, this story, and Chapter 5. If you are a fan and have read the ongoing series and don't give flying fuck one about the history or the author of this story, then by all means skip ahead. However, if you are one of the people who have sent me feedback or public comments, and would like to know more about how this story came about, then read on.

First let me say "Thank You" to you all. Your feedback has been appreciated and wonderful. I have even gotten to know some of you 'virtually' and really appreciate the kind words of encouragement. Keep reading and sending me email both positive and negative. It is all appreciated.

Now some answers to questions. Yes my name is really Sara. And yes some of the things in the stories I have had happen to me (although some artistic license has been taken). Yes there really is a Michelle and a Rachel although those are not their real names. Ron is very real.

And yes to that one reader who asked, Michelle is single. She is my best friend. We have had sex, and she is almost as freaky as her character in the story. She is as you put it, "one cool chick".

Now about the Chapter you are about to read: It was the hardest I have written to date. It started out as an idea I had noodling around in my head from an event in my far past. I have made some changes to make the story flow, but it is much more a metaphorical story than the others. (Robin you will appreciate this Chapter or you will hate it. Please let me know which).

If you are looking for a lot of fucking and sucking action with detailed descriptions of the plumbing of sex, then I fear I may disappoint with this installment. (Don't worry there is a lot more of what YOU are looking for in Chapter 6).

However this story is very intense and somewhat darker than the others. It deals with some very real issues my character 'Sara' has been facing these past few months. It was unexpected the direction this story took and many of you ask what is going to happen next. Unfortunately I don't know. When I write the characters take on a life of their own and I really have no more control over them than the reader does. In many ways, I feel like a voyeur who spies on my characters and then reports back to you, my readers, about their activities.

This is a pivotal chapter in 'Sara's life". It is a diversion from the last few chapters in that its primary objective is to resolve a conflict that the character in the story can no longer deal with, rather than to titillate you with her sexual exploration. As I said, it was the most difficult chapter to write, and I hope I do not alienate my fans for letting "Sara" find more than a big dick or wet pussy in this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, but either way email me your thoughts.

And now...

Chapter 5 – Rachel find a room mate and Sara finds herself

Saturday of Memorial Day weekend was hot and sticky as the temperature topped out at 87 degrees. I spent the majority of my morning cleaning my downtown Chicago apartment. Rachel had called me that morning at 8:00 as she left from her rural home in southern Illinois and traveled north via train toward Chicago.

Rachel was my 18 year old niece who had artfully conned both her mother and I into moving in with me and foregoing college for a year (see Chapter 4 for full details). She would be arriving sometime in the early afternoon, and I was wondering how my life may change due to the result of living with a kid like her.

She really was no longer a kid. I had to keep reminding myself of that. She was not the child I remembered when I last lived close to them, and I vowed that I would treat her like a room mate and not a child. She was coming here to learn to grow up a little and also to educate herself in her chosen field of photography, not to be "babysat". I am sure my sister (her mother) expected me to take care of her, but I didn't sign up to be anyone's keeper here. But of course I would try to keep her out of too much trouble.

What a fucking tightrope I was walking.

And then of course there was Ron and The Game.

The Game was on hold for now. We both had decided to take a month off after our last adventure. We were both a little freaked out by the intensity of the experience and each had our own feelings to deal with. I sighed and thought, "Well I guess you can't let 6 guys jack off on you while your boyfriend ass fucks you without spending a little time thinking about it.".

I shivered as my mind flashed on the moment on my couch when the men emptied themselves on us. I felt a rush of emotion ranging from embarrassment/guilt to excitement. I giggled at myself nervously and went on with my cleaning.

I was not sure how Rachel moving here would affect Ron and I, but I wondered if putting the brakes on The Game might not be a bad idea. It had started as a way to get to know Ron, and then it had morphed into a way to get to know myself. Now I wondered if I even knew the person I was getting to know.

I never considered myself a slut or a whore or whatever label you wanted to put on a woman who had done some of the things I had done, but there it was. I still did not think of myself in those terms, but I had certainly done some "slutty" things. I even thought of the person who played this Game as an alter ego, "Slutty Sara". I wondered if this was healthy.

I was not losing my grip on reality. I knew it was me who had done everything, but when I was participating I thought of myself as playing a role that was outside the scope of my normal personality.

It was time for a break to digest this idea and make some decisions about if this was a good idea or not.

But then there was the "forbidden fruit" effect. Knowing that we were taking a break and I would not be giving a letter this month made me horny as hell. I missed the excitement of the game. I missed the anticipation of what would inevitably be an amazing sexual experience.

Not that we gave up sex. We definitely didn't. Knowing Rachel was coming today, we made sure to have "fun" last night. We spent the whole evening drinking wine, naked, watching movies (and a porno) and alternatively talking and fucking. It was a great night and amazing sexually, but it was not the same as playing the game.

Part of me wondered if I could give up the game now that I had started playing. What if I couldn't? A shiver of fear rippled through me at the thought. I struggled over and over with the control The Game was exerting over me. I often felt terribly guilty about the things I had done, but I also loved doing them on a very fundamental level.

I thought about that day in the gas station often. There was a moment when I was pinned against the counter taking that boy's cock where I could not move. I always shivered at the remembrance and honestly did not know if it was from excitement or fear.

My mind returned again and again to that moment when I could not move, could not stop, and could not control the situation. The thing I always fixated on in that experience was not the cock inside me, or the girl watching me being fucked, but the feel of the hand on the back of my head holding me firmly bent over the cheap Formica counter top. Did I like that?

No.

Yes.

I don't know.

How could I like it? I shivered again. I knew I had to stop this game. But I also didn't want to. I wanted the game desperately. Why? What was happening to me? This was wrong, wasn't it? Or was it right? Did it matter?

I finished cleaning my apartment and took a shower with my thoughts. As I was drying my hair there was a knock at the door. I smiled and slipped on my robe and ran to get the door.

I pulled the door open and Rachel stood beaming at me with two suitcases and a million dollar smile. We hugged briefly and she came into my apartment obviously excited.

"How could anyone not LOVE it here?" she gushed as soon as the door was shut. "Those are the biggest damn buildings I have ever seen."

I laughed at her first impression of the Chicago skyline that I had long since taken for granted. It was fun to witness someone so excited about the everyday sights and sounds of the city. It was like being here for the first time all over again for me, and the nostalgia was a wonderful feeling.

I showed Rachel to her room and she quickly dropped her suitcases on the bed along with what looked like thousands of dollars of photography equipment. "Aunt Sara I am going to love it here. Thank you so much for letting me come to stay with you. I promise not to be any trouble." She hugged me fiercely and I smiled again at the genuine feeling of raw excitement that seemed to radiate from Rachel.

We sat together on the couch as she recounted to me again her journey from southern Illinois through the suburbs and eventually to the heart of the city.

I watched her with amusement as she told me about seeing the Sears tower and the other sights and sounds of the city. She was particularly fascinated with the train station and the fact that millions of people used public transportation every day.

She was animated, enthusiastic, and absolutely beautiful as she sat with her auburn highlighted hair, t-shirt and skin tight jeans that rode low on her hips. When she had finished telling me about her trip, I told her that I had a surprise for her tonight. I was taking her to dinner down on the Lake and to see Navy Pier and the fireworks show they did every night in the summer.

I thought she would burst with joy. Her eyes lit up like diamonds and her smile could have illuminated a room. I smiled at myself for providing her with such joy and looked forward to a night spent with my niece and new room mate.

******************************

Dinner was at a trendy restaurant that overlooked the Chicago skyline. The awe that Rachel tried impossibly to hide as we were escorted by the waiter dressed in a tuxedo was an enjoyment to watch. We were seated across from each other at a casual table for two next to a large window that reflected the lights of the harbor on a serene Lake Michigan. God Chicago in the summer time is wonderful.

Rachel for her excitement never stopped talking about her new job, the city, how great it was going to be living with me. I listened quietly and offered small tid bits about the city whenever it seemed appropriate. I both enjoyed and envied this beautiful young woman who had come to explore the possibilities that life had to offer.

We shared a lobster cake and then an intimate dinner. For my part I had the Tilapia while Rachel tried a grilled Sole for the first time in her life. All in all it was an excellent meal.

Afterwards we took a walk down the pier and I pointed out the building that Oprah lived in and Rachel thought it was the "coolest thing ever" that Oprah was a real person and had a home like regular people and at this very minute may be looking out of her window and down on the pier that we walked on.

The fireworks were dramatic and spectacular and Rachel and I watched them in silence enjoying the night and the brilliant display of man's ability to control fire. When it was over I suggested we head home, but Rachel was too in love with the city and the potential excitement to call it a night. So when she turned to me and said, "Come on Aunt Sara, show me more. I couldn't sleep now if I had to." I relented and agreed to take her on a cab ride to Wrigleyville to see where people her age spent Saturday nights partying.

The cab ride alone was entertainment enough for Rachel. She stared out the windows watching the throngs of people moving about their lives. When we went by Cabrini Green Rachel looked on in awe. I detected a shiver of fear that justifiably went through her as she watched two men stand next to a burning trash can in the middle of the vast wasteland that was Chicago's public housing system.

And just like that we were two blocks further north and the city was once again the city. The stark contrast never ceased to amaze me and I could only imagine the impact it had on my niece.

The cab let us off near a small strip of nightclubs and we planned to walk down several blocks and just take in the night. Rachel was still underage so the bar scene was off limits, but the "people watching" should be as good as ever on a warm Saturday night in Chicago.

We walked six blocks before we came to a bar called Mulligan's. It was an Irish pub as the name suggested, but it was not a quiet pub but rather a full on party that raged over three floors. The dance floor occupied most of the third floor, while a sports bar and "living room" bar occupied the first and second floor respectively. It was currently one of the hot spots for the twenty something crowd.

Rachel grabbed my arm and said, "Oooh let's check out this place."

I smiled knowing that the bouncer at the door would no more let Rachel in than he would pick his nose in front of the scantily clad women that were still young enough to think that bouncing was a cool career choice.

"Alright" I said figuring she might as well learn that this was not a small town where laws like the drinking age were somewhat more relaxed.

I let her lead me toward the door, but as we approached we inevitably got separated as several people pushed toward the entrance. I was three people behind her when she reached the door, and I watched waiting for the large black bouncer to point her back toward the street.

The bouncer spoke to her briefly and she fumbled in her purse for a second and then produced her ID. God she was naïve. Didn't she know that the bouncer was looking for proof of age? It was then my turn to be amazed. He opened the door for her and let her pass without a second glance at her.

I followed quickly now that she was out of my sight and a tingle of worry went through me. The bouncer checked my ID with a cursory glance and let me pass. I pushed my way through the crowd and into the bar. The first floor was a very large sports bar. TV's hung from every corner and a large projection model broadcasted a Bull's Game over the main bar. The waiters and waitresses were dressed in Bull's Jersey's as part of the uniform.

I looked around the packed bar for Rachel who I had somehow managed to lose. The bar was filled to capacity with excited, cheering fans all in their mid 20's. The game was in it's final quarter and the Bull's were up by 2. The crowd was roaring with every free throw and missed shot of the game which prevented almost every attempt I made to move through the crowd to find my niece.

Worry was really hitting me now. Shit she had been here less than 1 day and I had already lost her in a bar in downtown Chicago. God damn it, I was going to kill her if I ever found her again.

And then just like that I felt someone familiar take my arm from behind. I whirled around to find Rachel standing there, obviously pleased with herself, holding two drinks.

She handed me one and said, "Here Aunt Sara. I thought the least I could do was buy a round after that dinner."

I just stared at her as both relief and frustration filled me. The sad part was that the frustration was with myself and not Rachel. Why the hell was I so worried? I knew she would not leave me and how much trouble could she really get into in less than 10 minutes. Jesus she's 18 not retarded.

After a moment I smiled and said, "Thanks, but what exactly did you say to that bouncer that convinced him to let you in?"

"I told him I would blow him in the bathroom later." Rachel replied grinning with a twinkle in her eye.

"Very funny." I said with both mock and genuine irritation.

"Well one of my friends back home gave me this as a going away present." she said handing me a genuine Illinois driver's license with Rachel's picture on it; The only discrepancy was the name, which read Angelina Moline.

"My friends name is Angelina and our first road trip together was to Moline, IL. It was her goofy idea so that I would think of her when I was in Chicago. I have no idea how she got the ID." Rachel responded to my confusion.

"You're not mad are you?" Rachel asked observing me closely.

She was testing her boundaries already, and I had some tough choices to make all of the sudden. "No I am not mad." I said tentatively. "You are not the first girl to get a fake ID at your age, however, there can be some negative consequences. I am going to assume you are mature enough to make smart choices about things like this, but as the saying goes, 'You aren't in Kansas anymore'. Don't call me if and when you get arrested."

She considered me for a minute and said, "Deal."

I smiled and said, "Okay now how about we get a table and see what this place is all about."

Rachel beamed at me and was off through the throngs of people in search of a place to sit. I followed her and eventually joined her at the end of the bar where we could stand and watch the final minutes of the game.

We both nursed our drinks as the Bull's eventually defeated the Pistons 108 to 103. The crowd was really into the game and it was fun to watch Rachel take it all in.

There were two very cute guys standing next to us and I was not surprised at all when Rachel drew their attention. I stepped slightly away from her to order another drink and let her enjoy the attention of these two bar sharks.

When I returned Rachel was engaged with the two men so I stood aside and watched with amusement. The guys were working it hard and Rachel was obviously enjoying the attention of these handsome sharks, and I wondered how much she was aware of their obvious objective.

I handed Rachel her drink and she politely disengaged from the two guys and returned to our little alcove at the end of the bar. "Looks like you made some friends." I said tentatively.

Rachel laughed and said, "I don't think those two wanted to be my friends, but I am pretty sure they would have fucked me on the edge of the bar if I would let them."

I laughed and was pleased to see Rachel was not as naïve as I may have thought.

"They wanted me to dance on the bar in some contest they are having at midnight." she explained.

I laughed with her and we drank our beers. As the night progressed we watched the crowd and drank more beer and were both getting a little giddy. Occasionally the DJ would break in between songs and encourage the female patrons to enter their "Thong Dance Contest" at midnight. All through the place groups of girls giggled about possibly entering and the roving males encouraged each and every one.

At around 11:50 a bar manager with a clip board and headset came around and went table to table signing up the contest participants. They reached us and I politely declined, but Rachel asked what exactly the contest was. The bar manager smiled lecherously at Rachel admiring her stunning body and said, "Well it's basically a dance contest to the 'Thong Song'. We let girls dance on the bar for 4 minutes and then we judge them on crowd noise. The winner drinks free all night."

Rachel considered for a moment and leaned to me and said, "Aunt Sara do you want to? It might be fun."

I considered her for a moment and replied, "I think I am a little old to be dancing on a bar, but you go ahead if you like."

She considered for a minute and looked around the room at her competition and then back to the bar manager. "I'm not sure I would be any good, I don't dance much."

The bar man laughed and said, "Honey I am sure you would do just fine as he admired her curves. So you want in or out?"

Rachel smiled and said, "Out I think. Not sure I am up for that tonight."

I smiled thinking of the night in the hot tub where she was embarrassed by being naked with three family members and imagined her up on the bar being ogled by half of Chicago.