Hate the Game

"Damn, dude, again?!" the guys shouted.

"I know, I know. I forget my dice every other week," I said sheepishly. I quit rifling through my backpack and stood up from the gaming table. "I'll just go buy another set," I muttered under my breath, admitting defeat as I headed toward the front of the store.

Of course, I knew where the dice were. I had bought four sets of them over the few months that I'd been showing up for this role-playing game group. It was just a bunch of aging nerds, trying to relive their youthful glory days. Harmless fun and my wife had ceramics classes scheduled at the same time, so I slunk into the game store in nearby strip mall to get my nerd on.

I was thinking about the evening's campaign when I absentmindedly picked out a set of dice. I turned to go pay at the register and wham! I walked right into her. She was about 5'5" to my 6-foot frame, and I almost knocked her glasses off as my chest bumped into her head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking," I started to explain.

"But you are now," she smiled devilishly.

It was true. I was looking, staring really, right down into her cleavage. She wore a white, button-down shirt with the top button undone to perfect effect. The shirt flowed over a high-waisted skirt that hugged her broad thighs.

"I, uh, yeah, sorry," I sputtered, looking away quickly and then refocused on her sparkling brown eyes behind the chunky glasses.

"No problem," she replied. "I think I know a way you can make it up to me. I need some help with the windshield wipers on my van. But get the dice. You never know when you might need 'em."

I told my friends that I'd be back in a while and to go ahead and start without me. They laughed and made lewd gestures, implying that I was ditching them to get lucky. I waved them off, bought the dice, and headed to check out the van.

"I'm Sarah, and this is me," she said as we walked up to the Sprinter van, the kind that hipsters take to music festivals.

"I'm Jim. What seems to be the trouble, Ma'am?" I offered with my best/worst impression of a sheriff approaching a damsel in distress.

"Well, Jim, the truth is that there's nothing wrong with my windshield wipers. I just like the cut of your jib, and I thought you might want to go for a sail," Sarah laughed awkwardly as she climbed into the driver's seat of the van. "Get in!"

Who says stuff like that, I thought? But I wasn't about to judge someone else for weird conversation. Lord knows, I'm guilty of it myself from time to time. So I got in the passenger seat. "Where to?"

"Oh, just a little place where we can game in private," Sarah said. As she drove away from the strip mall, it started pouring raining. The windshield wipers worked perfectly, of course. About twenty minutes later, we parked in the picnic area by the river that cut just south of town. No one was around. The rain beat continuously against the windshield.

"Are you really a gamer," I asked, somewhat incredulously.

"Well, not as much as my husband, but yeah, I play a bit. What about your wife?" She asked, pointing to my ring.

"She, uh, she's not into games or role playing, if you know what I mean," I trailed off.

"Sorry to hear that. But her loss is our gain. My husband doesn't mind. In fact, he suggested that I go to the game store to see if I could find someone to play with."

I found that hard to believe. Game stores are the worst place to pick up prospective dates. I mean, sure, there are a lot of desperate, lonely dudes there, but most of them are thirteen. The others, including yours truly, are not exactly Casanovas. But again, I wasn't about to second guess what was turning out to be a nerd fantasy. "Ok, so what's the game?"

"Well, I'm the dungeon master, of course," she smiled wryly, "and you're a lonely campaigner. You're passing by a cave, when you see what appears to be a distressingly beautiful damsel in the shadows. Do you enter the cave?"

"Sure!" I answered with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"The damsel turns out to be a succubus, a demon of lust in female--"

"I know what a succubus is," I cut in rudely, ready to nerdsplain their mythological backstory.

"Ok, smart guy. Roll a D20 savings throw to see if you succumb immediately to her charms."

I broke into the new dice set and get out the twenty-sided die. There was a tray in the middle arm rest of the van that seemed ready made for dice rolling. I rolled a 13.

"Lucky number," Sarah said, pushing her glasses up her cute nose. "You are impervious to her wiles ... for the moment. Now, roll for your attack."

I'll admit that Sarah was the first girl--ahem, woman--that had ever played an RPG with me and knew the lingo. It was more than a little hot. I rolled the D20 again and scored a 16. "Yessss! Suck it, succubus!" I said with a geeky fist pump.

"Oh, no, the succubus reels from the blow," Sarah responded, calmly unbuttoning her shirt one button at a time. One gorgeous breast sheathed in a white lacy D-cup bra peeked out and then a luscious belly appeared, straining just a bit against the top button of her skirt. It was torture not to stare. My cock started to stir in my jeans. "My turn," Sarah said, as she rolled a 17. "Ooh goody," she wrung her hands. "I think those jeans need to come off."

I kicked off my shoes and wriggled out of the jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat. My pale legs almost glowed, which would have been the most embarrassing thing about the situation if I hadn't been wearing tighty-whities. Sarah stuck her finger in the waist band, snapping it against my abdomen. "Nice, undies, mister," she laughed. "Your roll."

The die seemed to tumble in slow motion, bouncing on the tray between us. First a 3, then a 1, and finally the facet with the number 20 came to rest face up. "Hell, yeah!" I screamed, jumping out of the seat and banging my knees into the dashboard. "Fuck," I winced.

Sarah was already unbuttoning her skirt. It was almost like she knew that the natural 20 would turn up. She shimmed the skirt down below her belly and then over her large, brown thighs, revealing white lace panties that matched her bra. Now, my tighty-whities really looked stupid. My dick pushed against the fabric, and I involuntarily reached down to rearrange it with a few strokes. Sarah reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. Two beautiful breasts appeared before me with large nipples pointed directly at my chest. I gasped audibly, fighting every urge to reach out and grab them. Sarah smiled and followed my gaze. "It's ok, you can look and touch," she said.

My hands leapt from my sides and grasped Sarah's breasts roughly. I bent down and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. She breathed out and threw her head back. Somehow, she also managed to pull off her panties while I was occupied with her breasts, and there she sat in her beautiful, bodacious birthday suit as my hands began to explore every inch of her curves.

After several minutes of this, she whispered, "Come with me." We hopped over the center console between the seats moving deeper into the van. There was a loft bed back there. "Climb up," Sarah ordered. "But first, take off those hilarious undies." I pulled off the tighty-whities and yanked off my old flannel. Giving me the once over and taking stock of my modest-sized half-erect member, Sarah concluded, "Mama like!" She spanked me surprisingly hard on the ass and nearly threw me into the loft bed.

"You rolled the D20, but I'm still the dungeon master," Sarah said playfully, but firmly. "Unless you want more spanking, get down there and get busy!" She pointed between her legs and giggled.

I didn't mind the spanking actually, but I followed the orders nonetheless. While caressing her breasts a bit more gently this time, I began to kiss her belly button and lick my way down to her nether region. Sarah had shaved completely, so my tongue danced over smooth skin all the way to her labia. I parted her lips and just grazed across her clit before diving. She arched her back and pushed into me, urging my tongue deeper.

"Mama's feeling dirty. Lick the whole platter clean," she pushed my head lower, and it became clear what she wanted. I spread her cheeks and licked the rosebud of her asshole, which was not dirty at all, but had clearly been prepared for just this eventuality. With one hand, I traced Sarah's ass to just below the small of her back. There was a dime-sized bump there that seemed particularly sensitive when I touched it, sending Sarah into paroxysms of ecstasy. The fingers of my other hand alternated between stroking her clit and penetrating her as I finished the rim job. Sarah's moans increased in intensity, approaching climax. She grabbed my head and yanked me upward. "Where's that cock? Mama wants her own D20."

Well, D6 was going to have to do. Sarah reached over into a compartment beside the bed and pulled out a red condom. There were many more where that came from, which might have given me pause if I weren't completely overcome by lust at the voluptuous vixen in the bed beneath me. She rolled the rubber down my cock. As I maneuvered between her legs, the rubber's reservoir tip brushed against Sarah's pussy ever so slightly. She cried out, "Fuck me, nerd! Make me your succubus!"

I had wanted to enter her slowly, lovingly, but that plan morphed into a single hard thrust that met little resistance as I penetrated to the hilt of my shaft. "More, faster, pussy cat!" Shit, we'd already gone 0-60. Maybe we should slow it down. I pulled my dick almost all the way out to tease her. She groaned, and then I pushed back inside her again, moving in and out to the rhythm of her rolling hips. I grabbed her ass, tilting it upwards just a bit to get a better angle. God, that ass felt good. So big and soft. I began thinking about trying to flip her over, but she seemed to read my mind. She got an iron grip on my back, dug her nails in to the point where she almost drew blood. The pain mingled with the pleasure, blurring my vision. "I'm going to cum," I moaned. "Good, cum for Mama. Give it to me, now!" she yelled as the walls of the van seemed to shake. I shot my load so hard that I worried that it might blow out the end of the rubber.

An earthquake shook Sarah, rippling through her flesh in a wave that rolled from her pussy up her tummy and to her beautiful breasts. It emerged from her throat not with the moan of pleasure that I expected but a riotous laugh that rung out in the van. I sank into her soft body exhausted, laughing too, though a bit more nervously than the full-throated howl coming from Sarah.

After a few minutes of bliss, I rolled off her and laid there, wondering what I had done to deserve this fantasy. I felt a brief sensation of guilt, fingering my wedding ring unconsciously as I thought of my wife. She was happily throwing her clay a few miles away at the ceramics studio. "It's ok," Sarah said, looking down at my wedding ring. "She won't ever know what happened." I sighed with relief, and Sarah smiled in the darkness.

"What about your husband? Are you going to tell him about this?" I said as I started to climb out of the loft bed back into the body of the van, seeking my lost underwear. "Oh, he knows," Sarah said. Then, I felt the sting of another spank land squarely on my bare ass. This time, it felt different, like a hot flat paddle. I turned to look for Sarah's hand, but it wasn't there. She was too far away, in fact. Instead of her hand, Sarah had hit me with what looked like a tail. My mind must have been playing tricks on me in the dark of the van. "Actually, my husband's going to drive us home," Sarah continued. "Aren't you, honey?"

As Sarah said this, she looked toward the driver's seat of the van. There, to my horror, now sat a figure I hadn't seen before, a man with red horns emerging from brown locks on his forehead. The figure turned back toward us. He rolled my D20 into the tray. I knew what it would be before the die came to a rest. "Twenty," the Devil said. "Game over."