A Gamer-Girl's Escape

Thanks for joining us for the 2023 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event! It's been months since my last story on Literotica due to other commitments, and I'm glad to be back. In more good news, my Urban Fantasy Romance novel that my older short story "One Night In Osaka" was derived from is nearly completed, and should be published later this year!

As per my usual, some disclaimers about the story you're about to read. All characters involved in sexual situations are at least eighteen years old. All characters and locations are my own creations, not intended to represent any real persons or places. While most of this story falls under "Erotic Couplings", there are other elements in play to a lesser extent such as group sex, anal sex, bisexual sex, interracial sex, and exhibitionist/voyeurs.

While this story takes place at the fictional Ellwood College setting that I've used in my other stories "Roger, Over & Out" and "A Witch From Another World", it is not necessary to have read those to enjoy this one.

With all that out of the way -- ON WITH THE SHOW!

***

Day 1:

Yvette double-checked the last connection and hit the power button. The screen lit up with a familiar logo, and she was in. "At least something's going right tonight," she muttered.

The controller sat comfortably in her hand like an old friend as she took a deep breath and settled into her seat.

The basement TV lounge of Howard Hall was perfect for her needs. No one around, the overhead lights bulbs were burned out and left the room nice and dark, and no sounds except the "Crystal Prelude" theme song of Final Fantasy VII coming from the television. She hit the start button on her controller and smiled with contentment as the old familiar game's opening cinematic began. The room had three old sofas arranged in a rough U-shape with the open top towards the large TV, and a low table in the center of them where her console sat. She'd laid claim to the central sofa, not that anyone else was around to contest this.

The sofa cushions under her back and legs were a little scratchy and uncomfortable, but not unbearable. All the same, she made a mental note to herself to bring a blanket or something along those lines for the next time she did this.

She was halfway through the introductory mission in the city's "Mako" reactor when she heard the door open behind her. Hitting the menu button to pause her game, she turned and looked over her shoulder. She didn't recognize the guy who entered. His shoulders were broad, and she guessed he was about five foot seven -- three inches shorter than her. By the light of the tablet he was holding close to his face, she could see he was white and didn't have any facial hair or wear glasses. His long straight hair was as grey as a grandfather and pulled back into a pony tail. He looks like if Sephiroth had a short cousin, she thought to herself, and let out a small laugh.

He didn't look up, and as he approached she could see he had earbuds in. He wore unremarkable clothing -- a black golf shirt and jeans, much like her own simple outfit -- but there was a rather large and bulging tote bag slung over his shoulder. Without looking up from his tablet, he lifted the bag off his shoulder and dropped it right next to her on the sofa, nearly hitting her thigh with it. "Hey, watch it! I was here first!" Her indignant cry was ignored as he walked around to the front of the sofa and sat down next to his bag, just a few feet away to her right.

"Hey! Hey!" She waved her hands to get his attention, but he was oblivious. He did glance up briefly to notice that the television was on, whereupon he promptly picked up the remote sitting on the coffee table and hit the power button, the room now lit only by the screen of his tablet.

Yvette took a deep breath, trying to restain herself from smacking this invader's jaw right off his skull. "Excuse me? Hello?!" Nothing. Snarling with annoyance, she reached over his bag and yanked the wireless earbud out of his left ear. "Do you mind?"

He jumped as if he'd just had a taser shoved into his ass. "Jesus Christ!" He whirled and raised his fist. "Who... where did you come from?"

She gave him a look over the rim of her glasses. "South side of Chicago, white boy. And you better put that fist down before I break it off." She pointed to herself with the hand holding her controller. "I. Was. Here. First." She put that down, grabbed the remote from where he'd put it on the table and pointedly turned the TV back on. "Turning off someone's TV in the middle of their game is very rude. You're lucky I had it paused and not in the middle of a fight or I would've already smacked you." She slapped the remote back down on the table, a little harder and louder than was necessary, and held up the earbud in her other hand. "Now if you apologize and promise not to be rude going forward, I will give this back to you."

He set down his tablet and held up both hands, palms towards her. "Oh man. I genuinely did not even see you in this room before I did that." He saw how his bag was right next to her. "Oh shit, I didn't hit you with my stuff, I hope?"

"Just barely missed me." She held up the earpiece. "I'm waiting."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Man, I'm just batting a thousand tonight." He looked back up at her and moved his bag to the floor between them. "My deepest apologies. I was in the middle of a really good scene in my book and wasn't paying attention. I thought someone had left the TV on and then left, but if I'm honest and thinking back, I didn't even really look around to check. I'm really, really sorry about all of this."

Yvette nodded as she listened. "Okay. I think you really meant that. Hold out your hand." He did so, and she carefully placed the earbud in his palm. "And now that we have restored civility, I'd like to ask that you leave so I can have some space to play my game."

He looked up at the TV and she could swear she saw him roll his eyes. "I'm not trying to be difficult, but I can't leave."

She pointed behind her towards the door. "Sure you can. You've got feet."

"No, I mean... I don't have anywhere else to go. I can't go back to my room right now, and there's some loud drama going on in the lobby that I don't want to be around for."

Yvette digested this. "Let me guess. Did your roommate kick you out to get some pussy and/or cock?"

He scrunched up his face as if he'd just bitten into a lemon. "Worse. Harvey, my roomie, is a goddamn porn addict. Every night at ten -- you can set your clock by it, he just whips it out, logs into Pornhub on his computer, and starts jerking off at his desk in full view of anyone present."

Yvette winced. "Ew."

"Oh, there's more," he assured her. "He refuses to wear headphones and has the volume way up, so even if I just turn my back on him, I can still hear 'oh step-brother' and other assorted grunts and moans and fuck-noises through my earbuds. It's freaking gross." He rubbed at his eyes. "He's oh-so proud to point out that he has everything scheduled out exactly so that he's always done and in bed sleeping by midnight. So I have to find somewhere to wait it out. I'd been using the lobby, but..." he shrugged. "It's been getting loud up there lately, and tonight's drama just made it impossible."

Yvette glanced up at the ceiling, glad that she couldn't hear any shouting or what-not through the lobby floor. "What's the big drama about?"

He followed her gaze upstairs. "Some girl came running out of the stairwell and got right in the face of some other girl as she shouted out, and I quote, 'You skank-ass bitch, I did not give you permission borrow either my dildo or my boyfriend.' He rolled his eyes. "I immediately grabbed my things and nope'd right out of there."

Yvette couldn't help but laugh. "Very wise of you." She pointed to the sofa to her right. "Okay, you can stay. But you are still kinda in my personal space, so I'm gonna ask you move your butt and your bag over there."

He did so, putting his returned earbud back in. "I'll just be sitting here reading and listening to some tunes. If I do anything that bothers you, please call me on it."

She nodded, unpaused her game, and resumed her quest through the bowels of Midgar City's infrastructure.

***

Day 2:

Yvette glanced at her phone as he walked in. "Five after ten. Harvey's keeping to his schedule, then?" She paused her game.

"Yeah. Ten on the dot, I hear his zipper, and I grab my things and jet." He collapsed into the right-hand sofa, bag at his side and tablet in hand. "You know what makes it worse? He's got a freaking baseball bat between his legs that puts the porn stars he watches to shame. Not something I want to look at."

She snorted. "If he's that well-hung you'd think he'd be able to get a real woman and not be so fixated on his porn videos."

He snorted right back. "Clearly you have never actually met Harvey Whippler, and you should feel fortunate. Any time a girl comes around, all he can do is stare at her chest as if there's a map to the holy grail engraved in her cleavage. Dude gives off major creep energy, and on top of that he doesn't bathe nearly as much as he should. Makes me wonder what I did to deserve him as a roommate." He looked over at the television. "So... why do you bother with that stuff?"

She blinked in surprise. "What, video games?"

"Yeah. Seems like a waste of time, honestly. Spending hours upon hours on proxy goals in a fake digital world when you could be doing something constructive with your time."

She pushed one of her slender braids away from her face. "You know, maybe you and Harvey do deserve each other."

He looked up from his tablet, a shocked expression on his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You were rude as hell yesterday, but at least you apologized. Now you come back and are just rude all over again. Where the fuck do you get off on just walking up to people and calling their hobbies stupid?"

"I didn't say that!"

She gave him the over-the-glasses look again. "Not in those exact words, but yes, you really did. Yes, I'm a gamer nerd, geek, whatever. But let's look in the mirror shall we? Sure I play games with my free time, but how is that different from you putting your nose in a book?"

"It's completely different!"

She unpaused her game and turned her attention back to exploring Midgar's "Wall Market" neighborhood. "Sure. You just keep telling yourself that."

He reached into his bag and held up a hardback book. "Books teach people. They provide information."

She pointed to the cover. "SNOW CRASH. That's a science fiction book, dude. It fires up the imagination, and that's all well and good -- just like my game does. But even if that was a chemistry textbook, my point is that games can still teach people just like books can. I learned how to type from a computer game. My little cousin learned how to read from a game."

He dropped the book back into his bag and picked up his tablet, making a show of putting in his earbuds. "Whatever. If you want to waste your time with video games, that's your loss." He pointedly swiped at his screen and went back to his reading. Yvette just shrugged and went back to her game.

***

Day 3:

The TV lounge door swung open. "So I have grudgingly come to accept that I've been an asshole, and I'd like to apologize."

Yvette looked up in surprise -- it was only 9:15. "Hello, I accept your apology, and wow you are here early. Did Mister Whippler get a head start - pun intended - on his self-love tonight?"

"No, he's very exact with that schedule. I just decided to bail early. I was hoping to get down here before you so we could talk before you got started on your game playing, but I guess that was fruitless." He sat down in his usual spot on the right-hand sofa. "So your roommate kicked you out early?"

She sighed. "I kicked myself out, sort of." She turned to face him. "So get this bullshit. I walk into my room, and Tori -- my roommate -- is in the middle of the room riding some dude, while another guy is kneeling behind her and either shoving it in her ass or double-stuffing her snootch. Meanwhile there's two guys making out in her bed while some other chick is kneeling by the bed to blow one of those guys, and then there's yet another guy sitting on the edge of my bed, jerking it while watching everything." She shuddered. "I make it two steps inside my room, see all this bullshit going on, and then she looks over at me and says, 'Hey, you're just in time! Joey needs some pussy, why don't you get naked and get in your bed with him? Besides, I bet you haven't had any cock since we all arrived here! It's our first year of college, Yvette! Get some dick!' Took everything I had not to scream and throw something, so I just grabbed my gaming bag and ran for it. That was an hour ago."

He winced. "That's... yeah, that'd be weird to walk in on."

"I know, right? And to make it worse, Joey is some dude I barely know in my Japanese Language 101 class! I swear, if he says one thing to me in class tomorrow morning I'm going to scream."

He toyed with his tablet for a moment before setting it aside and looking up. "Well, maybe I could take your mind off that."

She flashed him a warning look. "If your hands go anywhere near your zipper, I will beat you to death with this controller."

This got a chuckle from him. "I don't think that would work, but that's not what I had in mind."

She drew herself up in her seat, pretending to look indignant. "What, you don't think I'm cute? I can be cute. Gamer girls can be cute."

"I'm sure you can, but since you just told me how you retreated from an orgy invitation, I didn't think you were in the mood for that. Besides, I don't even know your name."

She stopped and thought. "Huh. You're right. I never did say."

"And that's what I wanted to talk about," he said with a smile. "I was talking with my Humanities prof this morning, trying to figure out what to do about Harvey, and the subject of books versus games came up. He pointed out a few things, and I wanted to apologize to you since it's clear that I've been a jerk for no good reason."

She set down the controller. "Okay, I'm listening."

He held up a book in one hand and his tablet in the other. "I got stuck in an old trap. Old media versus new media. Just because books have been around longer than video games doesn't mean that they're inherently better. They're both media for information exchange, and that's fine."

She nodded at this. "Okay, good. So you can accept that having your face in a book all the time is just as nerdy as my having a controller practically grafted to my hand?"

He nodded right back. "Pretty much. I mean, getting to the end of 'Pride & Prejudice' is just as much as a 'proxy goal', as I put it, as beating a video game. I shouldn't have looked down my nose at you, and I'm sorry."

She stood up and walked over with her hand extended. "Apology accepted, and I'm sorry if I was a little, ah, snippy about things. I was the only black nerd-lady around back at high school, and I got a lot of shit over that. The other nerds didn't know how to react to a black woman being in their midst, and the other black folks accused me of 'acting white' -- such bullshit -- so I couldn't fucking win no matter what I did. I took some of that out on you, and that wasn't right. So I'm sorry back."

He stood up and shook her hand. "Well, I'm sorry you had to deal with that, and I'm sorry I've been a poop-head. So we're cool?"

"We're good. And since you brought it up -- my name's Yvette. Yvette Goble."

He gave her a genuine smile for the first time since they'd met earlier this week, and Yvette was pleased to realize that he had a rather nice smile. "So... what's your name? It'd be rude to just keep calling you 'white boy' like I did that first night."

He sighed. "No getting around it. Okay, here goes. Before I start, you have to promise not to get weird about this." He sat back down on the sofa, and she sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing him.

She snorted. "Unless your name is something like 'Testicles Johnson the Third', I'm sure it's fine."

He had a quick laugh at that. "Thankfully not. Okay, here we go. My name... is Mohammed Maffioni."

She stood there in silence, watching his expectant face. "What," she finally said, "were you expecting me to be upset? I know a lot of white muslims, it's not a big deal."

He pinched the brow of his nose. "That's not what I meant. I'm not a muslim. I'm not actually religious at all. I am at best a lapsed Catholic, much to my mother's despair. And this leads you to your next inevitable question..."

Yvette chuckled. "I mean, yeah. So if you or your family don't follow Islam, then why did you get that name?"

Mohammed leaned back against his sofa. "Because my mother is well-intentioned, but to be perfectly blunt and honest, she is not especially smart. I love her dearly, but sometimes... ugh. Okay, so get this. When she was pregnant with me and trying not to freak out over the asshole who got her knocked up bailing on her, she wanted to just keep things as 'normal' as possible, as she put it. Trying to just keep things steady. She asked a friend of hers what the most commonplace name in the entire world was, because she'd heard stories about parents giving their kids weird names and making their lives difficult, and didn't want that for me."

Yvette put her face in her hands. "Oh god. So when she heard that Mohammed was the most commonly used boy's name on the planet, she went for it without understanding why it was so common -- because it's part of the islamic faith."

"My apologies for mansplaining," he said with a grimace, "You nailed it in all respects except for that last part. It's not actually required or even suggested by Islamic doctrine at all that folks do that. It's just really commonly done because a lot of muslims want to give honor to their beloved prophet. Like a Jew naming their son Moses or Abraham, or a Christian naming their kids Mary or Maria or Peter, that sort of thing." He rubbed his temples. "But let's just say that when you were talking about being on the outside a lot, that I can relate."

He rolled his neck to ease a cramp. "Some actual muslims get really confused when they hear my name -- hell, one guy a couple years ago got super-offended and accused me of insulting the prophet. The worst was this one psychotic nun at the catholic school I used to go to. She was convinced that I was some sort of 'spy' sent by the Taliban and kept insisting that they check my bags for bombs. 'He's hiding in plain sight! He's announcing it every time he says his name! He's going to kill his classmates!' God, what a bitch. I was fucking nine years old when that happened, by the way."

"Jesus. So why didn't you change your name?"

"I don't want to." He said with a resigned shrug. "It's my name. It's a good name. It means 'praiseworthy' and my mother, bless her heart, is still proud of having given it to me, never really understanding what the fuss was about. And it shouldn't matter. It's who I am, and changing it just because some people are assholes about it doesn't seem right. Also, I've found it's a good way to get a feel for people. If someone feels they should judge me for the name I was given, then that lets me know that I shouldn't have anything to do with them or care about anything they have to say."

She cocked her head to one side. "You've really thought a lot about this."

"I had to, just out of self-preservation." He motioned to his tablet. "Also, in a weird way my name has helped shape my interests. One of the reasons I started reading non-stop is because my mother didn't. If she'd been more well-read, she wouldn't have made that mistake about my name. So I've decided that I want to read as much as I can, fiction and non-fiction alike, so that I have a better understanding of people and how the world works."