The Game Ch. 07 Pt. 01

"With Ron?" she asked after the laughter passed.

"Yeah, actually only with him." I said.

"Wow that is cool. How did he take it?", she asked.

I laughed and said "Guys love that stuff. Makes them feel like they just won the Superbowl single handedly."

She sighed and then grinned. "Well do you want me to return the favor?" she asked moving closer to me.

I stopped her and said, "Maybe later."

She looked confused and said, "Did I do it wrong last night?"

I smiled and said, "No hun you were great it's just that I want to be really horny for a little longer."

I was actually thinking about the letter I owed Ron but I was not ready to tell Rachel that.

I stood up and kissed her on the cheek and said, "This time it can be all for you. If there is a next time you can owe me."

"Well I think 'if' is a foregone conclusion", she replied.

I walked down the hallway to the bathroom and Rachel followed me not bothering to put her robe back on. I took my own robe off and started the shower. I turned on the water and was only mildly surprised when Rachel stepped in with me.

"So Ron liked it huh?" she asked.

"Liked what? Oh the squirting. Yeah he liked it." I replied as I rinsed Rachel's juices off of my face and body.

"I'm not sure my last boyfriend would have liked it, but then he didn't do much for me in that department. It's why we broke up.", Rachel said sharing an insight into herself that I had never known.

"Really?" I asked trading her places so she could rinse off again.

"Yeah he was kind of a hair trigger." She said.

I laughed and said, "That sucks." Not sure where this conversation was going.

"Yeah it sucked bad." She replied and then after a moment's hesitation, "Can I ask you something, Aunt Sara?"

I paused and turned off the water and stepped out onto the tile floor grabbing us both towels. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well I am not a virgin, but sex with my boyfriend was always over so fast that I was never sure we even had sex. Sometimes he would cum without even touching me." She began obviously nervous.

"Well young men sometimes have 'issues' like that. I just hope you were smart enough to make sure you were protected." I said tentatively.

It was Rachel's turn to laugh. "Yeah no worries there. I am on 'the shot'" she said. "And we used rubbers."

"Good. Glad to see you are responsible. Now what is it you wanted to ask me?", I asked.

Rachel blushed slightly and said, "Well I'm not exactly getting laid a lot here and besides last night I have been feeling a little frustrated. I was just wondering where you got that vibrator."

I laughed and said, "Actually I ordered it online. It was 40 bucks. Let me guess; you want to get one." I said not surprised.

"Well yeah that thing was awesome. I don't want it to replace a guy, but I figured it might be a good substitute in the short run."

"You can use my computer later." I said.

And with that everything was alright between us and our relationship had grown in dimension I never expected. I was still nervous about where this might lead, but I decided not to worry about it.

Rachel went to her room and started to work on some camera equipment she often fiddled with. I went to my own room and slipped on a pair of sexy panties and t-shirt and sat at my computer to write Ron a letter. I was cutting it close since the month was ending in two days, but surely I would come up with something.

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

The letter writing ritual had become somewhat of a compulsion with me and it started just as I knew it would. I had idea after idea that I would start to write, only to close my word processor without saving. I hated this part of the game, and I loved it. This was the part where I had to explore my own sexuality and be ready to lay it bare before my lover. It was scary, hard, exciting, erotic, and most of all frustrating.

What did I want? That's what it always came down to. What did I like? What would make me cum hard and long?

Through this game I had discovered that the erotic part of this game had nothing to do with a body part other than the brain. It was what fantasies I harbored that made living them out so exciting and personal. No one in the world might enjoy some of the 'acts' I had participated in, but I did because they were uniquely mine.

I closed my eyes and imagined the moment Rachel cum like a hose in my mouth. I remembered her taste and the feeling of control it had given me. I felt my panties getting damp at the thought and just let them. I had yet to get through one of these letters without being soaked and I had long since given up trying.

Then I thought about Ron. Actually about Ron's cock. I thought about how much he could turn me on and the feel of him hardening in my hand or mouth. I focused on the smell of him; the feel of him; his textures and images.

Then my mind drifted to Tim. That guy had a dick that was huge, but it was not only the size that turned me on. It was that it was different. I thought about that cock and fucking him. I barely knew the guy and that made the act of being so intimate with him so wicked in my mind.

I didn't know a thing about him. Hell I don't even remember if I knew his last name, but I for damn sure didn't know it now. But his cock was emblazoned in my memory. I suspected that in time I might not even remember what he looked like except for that piece of him. I wondered if he felt the same way, and if that thought turned him on. Did he forget that I had blond hair and soft skin? Is he somewhere right now thinking only of what it felt like to slide his cock inside of me until he came. Was that what I was to him: a faceless pussy he fucked? And am I getting wetter thinking that all of that might be true?

Was that what a 'one night stand' was all about? Was there some perverse pleasure in fucking a random stranger? I knew the answer was 'yes' deep down inside of myself. I had only had a few 'one nighters' but I still carried memories of them. Not the guys (and in one case the girl) but the feeling the act of sex with a stranger gave me.

I sometimes didn't even cum. Well not in the sense that I have cum with Ron. But the pleasure of a random sex is often in the memory and not the moment. I had often masturbated to the memory of sex with a guy I had let pick me up in a bar after one too many shots. I only came with him when I rubbed my own pussy after he fucked me, but we did so many 'nasty' things together that night. The memory was far more erotic than the moment.

It was during these thoughts that I began to type. I knew the fantasy I wanted and it was flowing out of me and into my keyboard and coming to life in words on the screen. I was barely aware of it at first, but then I became totally focused as I lived out in my mind the wickedly erotic scenario my mind created.

When I was finished I had almost three paragraphs of text. I re-read them and resisted the urge to edit. I was done, and I knew it. The proofreading was only a habit I had picked up from writing emails at work.

'Longest one yet,' I thought and then cut and pasted the text into an email and sent it to Ron without a second of hesitation. I then saved the file to a folder called 'the game' and closed the word processor.

I sighed as the butterflies hit me. I wondered if I had gone too far this time. I always wonder that after these notes and predictably I was nervous and horny. I would have had a glass of wine, but it was only early afternoon and I had more than enough alcohol the night before.

I lay on my back on my bed feeling guilty and nervous. I imagined Ron opening his email and laughing at my fantasy and that image cut deep into me. I knew it was just my imagination and the likelihood of him laughing at me was zero, but I a small part of me harbored the insecurity. The mind could be merciless when it came to the heart's darkest fears.

Maybe part of the excitement of this game was because of my insecurities. Hell without being a little afraid of rejection the game is strictly about sex, and this definitely was more than that. I didn't know what exactly, but definitely more.

And as I lay there in a state of extreme insecurity and horniness, a knock came on my door. "Come in." I said knowing it was Rachel.

The door opened slowly and Rachel stood there grinning ear to ear as if she had just found a winning lotto ticket on the street.

"What?", I asked both amused and confused.

"Let's call into work tomorrow and go out tonight.", she said grinning wider.

I laughed and said, "You're crazy", not really taking her seriously.

Her smile faltered, but she then said, "Why? I have been working my ass off and my boss wants me to get some shots of the city at night for a project he's got me assigned to so I figure I could go out tonight and get the shots and maybe do a few shots. And I want you to come with me. It will be fun."

I stared at her suddenly realizing she was serious. "Didn't you get enough shots last night?" I asked her.

"Oh come on," she said in her whiniest voice. "I want to go out and meet some new people and you could use a 'girl's night'" she said. "Besides, I know you have the vacation time and it's either use it or lose it. You said so yourself last week. Besides, I want to try out a new club I heard about."

She had a point. I never used the 3 weeks of vacation I earned every year, and every January I vow not to let that happen again. "What club?" I asked suddenly picturing myself feeling very out of place in a group of 21 year olds all dancing to music I that I often didn't recognize.

Rachel grinned and said, "Well not so much as a club, but a bar. It's called 'X' and it's only a mile or so from here."

I sighed. 'X' was an out of the way club that was frequented by some of Chicago's underground scene. It was really named "Extreme", but everyone knew it as just 'X' and there was a not so subtle drug reference there as well.

"So you want to do 'X' tonight?" I asked her with some concern in my voice.

She shook her head and said, "Nah you know I don't like drugs. I just want to check it out. I thought we might find some interesting people there." She said blushing slightly.

"Interesting male people?", I asked teasing her.

She laughed and said, "Well I could use some guy friends."

"So you want to go out on the town and pick up boys?", I asked bluntly. "I think I might be too old for that shit.", I said truthfully. I had not been out to 'pick up' in years although I did remember that time in my life fondly.

Her smile faltered and she said in her best pleading voice, "Come on Aunt Sara it will be fun. I hardly ever go out and we are in one of the coolest cities in the world. Besides wouldn't you want to be there to 'protect me' from all those immoral boys."

I smirked at her. After last night I had no doubt that she damn well didn't need or want me to protect her. But now she was trying to manipulate me and it irritated me.

"You should watch yourself young lady. People don't like being manipulated by your word games, and when I say 'people' I mean me. It makes you look like a spoiled brat that will say or do anything to get her own way." I said a little more harshly than I intended.

Rachel's smile fell and I saw anger flare in her eyes, but then her eyebrow rose as if considering a response and then she said, "Your right. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to go with me. I shouldn't have said that." I heard genuine remorse in her voice and my own anger subsided as quickly as it had risen. I remembered that admitting you were wrong at the age of 18 took more maturity than most were capable of.

I sighed, "How is it you are so good at your little word games at such a young age?" I asked rhetorically.

She smiled and answered me when no answer was expected.

"Well to be honest, I can sometimes see things in people that other people miss. I don't know how, but it's just a feeling I get."

I cocked my head intrigued now. "What do you mean?" I asked truly curious.

Rachel looked uncomfortable, and I wondered why.

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if trying to articulate something beyond words. It was like watching her consider how explain to a blind man what "blue" was. Her eyes returned to me and said, "Well sometimes I can sense things about people. You know how they are feeling and what motivates them. I guess I could always do it on some level; I just watch and listen to people and I can usually pick up on what they are feeling. Well kind of anyway."

She paused and said, "I have never told anyone that before in my life."

I considered her for a minute and sensed that she was sharing a part of herself that she rarely revealed, and the trust she placed in me was touching.

"You mean mind reading." I asked incredulously.

She laughed hard at that and said, "No not mind reading. I am not talking psychic shit or anything like that. I just 'people watch' better than most I think. I don't really know how to explain it, it's just I can sometime key in on body language, expressions, and subtle things others don't always see. I mean I am sure everyone could do it if they tried; I just don't really have to try. It kind of just comes to me when I am around other people. I sometimes forget that most people don't do it."

'Or can't do it' I thought but did not say. Where was this going? What was she telling me about herself, and why did she seem so emotionally naked?

"You mean you can pick up on people better than others?" I asked her skeptically.

"Well I know that sounds arrogant, but yes I guess that is what I mean, but it's a little more than just that, but I don't know how to explain it. It's like I can see who people really are." She replied knowing that didn't clarify anything, but she seemed at a loss to explain it any better.

Rachel had always been a master with word games even as a small child. She seemed to always know what everyone around her was thinking. She always won the 'go fish games' and other memory games even as young as two. It drove her father silently crazy that she could beat him at almost any game of mental skill. But could she really 'see' more than the rest of us, or did she 'see' through the rest of us. Somehow that felt more right.

And then I thought about my own experience with her.

I thought about how easily she had 'conned' me into letting her come live with me. I thought about the conflict she had with her mother, and how she had equally been 'conned'. But most of all I thought about Michelle. Rachel had effectively disarmed her last night by reversing her role, but she had also gotten Michelle to willingly agree to her terms and enjoy it. Rachel was a master of manipulation, and I sensed that there was a depth to her that I had never seen before.

"Like last night with Michelle?" I asked testing my own line of thinking.

Rachel grinned like fox and said, "Well she was pretty easy to read."

"How do you mean?" I asked curiously not really seeing how Michelle was so easy to read..

"Well come on, she is not exactly the queen of subtle is she? I mean within an hour of meeting us at Ron's she was sucking Tim's dick in front of everyone including me. I mean she might as well have had a sign that said, 'Look at me' written on it."

I nodded considering the events of yesterday (God was it just yesterday).

Rachel continued, "And then this 'Molee' chick shows up with some fantasy that Michelle is going to make come true. As much as Molee liked last night, the real fantasy was Michelle's. She wanted to be in control on the outside, but inside she wanted to just let go. But she was also afraid of letting go. And that conflict is the driving force behind all of Michelle's actions."

I tried to picture Michelle afraid of anything and had a hard time doing it. I stared at her skeptically.

"Go on." I said noncommittally.

Rachel continued as if pointing out a simple truth to the dumbest kid in the class, "That's why she is so wild. She is defying her fear and insecurities by doing all of those 'daring' things, as if saying to the world (and more importantly herself), 'I'm not afraid of anything'. But in truth she is terrified of losing control. I mean how can someone who will do anything lose control? They can't! But then there is part of her that wonders what it would be like just to let go and let whatever happens happen. She is afraid to have the situation impose itself on her, but she is also deeply curious of the idea. So I just gave her a little nudge and part of her couldn't say 'no'. I mean no one tied her to that chair, although that would have really gotten her off. She could have gotten up anytime, but she didn't. She didn't because she wanted to let someone else control the situation and she 'had' to just sit there and accept it. And she loved it. Once you find the conflict inside someone, it's easy to see what they really want."

Rachel stopped realizing she had told me far more than I had asked. I also suspected that in doing so she had told me something about herself she had worked hard to keep hidden.

I stared at her considering what she had just said. Somehow all of it made sense and seemed obvious. I thought back through the years and considered Michelle from a new perspective. She always was out there on the edge, and she always had to be in control of the situation. Rachel was right. Michelle was defying her fears by defining them. The insight into my friend was deeply powerful and I wondered if I should feel sorry for Michelle or admire her. It certainly took courage to live her lifestyle, but did she realize that she didn't have to? I didn't know.

More importantly, how was I, her best friend, so blind to such an obvious truth, and how did this young woman with merely half my life experience see it so clearly. A wide range of emotions flowed through me and the world seemed to tilt in the rush of insights that flashed through my mind.

But mostly what I felt was awe. There was really no other word that adequately described the feeling I had for Rachel in this moment. I was in awe of her for being so far ahead of her years in her intuition. I felt as if I had caught a glimpse of the depth of her personality, and it was like staring into an abyss. I would never again look at her as a child. This woman was special beyond words, and had a depth of spirit that made you ache if you allowed yourself to see it. I felt suddenly like I was the blind one and somehow she had given me a glimpse of what 'blue' was and the power and beauty of it moved me.

I looked up at Rachel who stood looking uncertainly at me. Her eyes were as beautiful as ever, but now they seemed to bore into me as if she could see all of the secrets of my soul. And for the first time I was a little afraid of her. What would she see if she pointed that deeply penetrating power of observation at me? Had she already? I felt naked.

"Are you okay Aunt Sara?" Rachel asked as I sat there staring at her. "You look a little pale."

I somehow found the will to speak, but my throat felt dry and the words forced, "I'm okay Rachel; I just never thought of Michelle like that." I said truthfully.

"Really?, she asked genuinely surprised.

She really had no idea that she had seen something that was out in front of the world but no one else saw. The idea that everyone could not see what she saw truly never has occurred to her. She had no idea how unique she was.

"Really" I replied. "But I don't think you are wrong. I am just a little amazed that you saw all of that in one night. You are amazingly perceptive."

Rachel flushed with embarrassment and said, "Thanks I guess, but like I said, I sometimes see things in people others miss. It's not a big deal really"

I wondered if she had any idea of what a big deal it really might be. I suspected that she did, and the thought may have scared her a little. It scared me a little.