The West Texas Ladies Chess Club Ch. 02

I smelled breakfast cooking, again, and walked out to the kitchen and saw:

Jenn and Martha, making breakfast. At my little table, sitting shoulder to shoulder, were seven naked girls, looking sleepy and hungry.

"Tish!" Martha said, and came over and hugged me. "Glad you're up! You can help us serve breakfast before these starving bitches get tired of waiting and decide to eat us!"

"Like we did last night?" one of the new girls asked, innocently. That led to a round of very immature giggling. When it died down, the same girl said, "Didn't hear any complaining last night." Which led to another round of girlish giggling.

"Oh, hush," Martha said, "Impertinent little slottie! Firm tits and pouting lips high and low will only get you so much slack. All of you girls: remember that!"

"Yes, Martha," all the girls chorused as one.

Still wrapped in Martha's embrace, I asked, "Good Heavens! What all did I miss last night?"

Lisa said, "Oh, the initiation went on for some time afterwards. Jenn and Martha showed us all a few things-"

"Including me!" Becky said, and again, there was a round of giggling and tittering.

"-and of course, the Egregiously West Texas Chess Club endeavored mightily to show our guests every courtesy."

"I'll say!" Jenn and Martha both said in unison.

"While we may not have had the depth and breadth of our esteemed guests' experience, we tried to make up with enthusiasm and quantity what we may have lacked in quality."

"I'd say you ladies succeeded very well, indeed," Martha said, which led to another round of giggles and inadequately suppressed snickers.

"Oh, my God, the club!" I said. "Ladies, pardon me for a minute while I check email and social media!"

They agreed, breakfast was being plated and served to hungry young women, and my kitchen, like my house, is a small one, so they were just as glad not to have me in the way. I brought up e-mail, but nothing major there. I brought up our social media page ... and nearly had a heart attack!

I shrieked in surprise, and in the next instant, all the girls were crowding around, trying to see what had caused me such alarm. In the back, I heard Jenn say, "What's wrong, Tish?"

"We ... we've been challenged ... to a Chess competition! I can't believe what I'm reading! And we're being called exclusionary and sexist because of our "Ladies Only" policy!"

It was true. Our college, like almost any other college, had several chess clubs, not just one. That was one of the reasons we came up with the whole Chess Club idea. We figured we would blend into the background of University life. No one would even think twice about us.

Not so! I had not realized that competition between chess clubs was a profoundly serious thing. And because I had happened to call our little organization a Chess Club, as I advertised it on social media, it had attracted the attention of the other clubs! And now they all wanted to take us on. And they were criticizing us for being a "ladies-only" organization!

"But why did you ever have to put the club on a social media platform?" one of the girls asked.

"To maintain a plausible cover story for having regular meetings that go on all night long," I said. "If any of us are asked about it, we say we're playing Chess, and most people stop asking questions because Chess isn't that popular of a game, and most people don't understand it."

Martha said, "Kitten? I don't know how to break this to you, but lately, in the last few years, the popularity of Chess has exploded."

"Oh."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Lisa said. "We just don't accept any challenges. We just say we practice together only among ourselves, only for the love of the game. End of problem!"

"And you'll lose all credibility in your cover story if you do," Jenn said. "Girls. Chess is basically "the continuation of war by other means," to paraphrase an old saying. The game has decided the fate of nations on more than one occasion throughout history. Competition is one of its core elements. You'll just have to learn to play. You don't have to try and be grandmasters, but you should try to learn enough to be able to make your opponent work a bit to defeat you. It's okay if you lose. You competed; that will confer legitimacy on your cover story."

"Does anyone know how to play Chess?" I asked.

Cassandra sighed and said, "OK, you naked bitches, get your hands back on your bodies and listen up! Each side has eight pawns. Pawns can only move forward. The Pawn's first move can be two squares forward, at the player's discretion. And pawns can capture a player in passing. After that, pawns only get to move one square forward. If a pawn makes it all the way to the other side of the board, it can be promoted to any other player, including a Queen, with all her powers. Each side has two Bishops. They move diagonally, any number of squares. They always end up on the same color as the square they started from. They look like a bishop, but you should think of them as more like being archers, because they can strike from all the way across the board, as long as it is diagonal! But unlike archers, the Bishop has to cross the board to strike, and when it is there, it is in hostile territory and now vulnerable to being lost. Then there are the knights ..."

###

The next three weeks, we purchased several Chess sets, and a bunch of books on the subject, and devoted half the meetings to sex, and half to learning Chess. It turns out it really is a neat game, and several of the girls came up to speed pretty quickly! We accepted a challenge to a local competition, at a nearby bar. The Music Department organized this particular club, and it was all male. They were all, to a man, the worst kind of assholes who made me first think of having sex with women as an option. It was pretty obvious why they had no female members. Who could tolerate them for more than five minutes? But the worst part of it was ... we got our asses kicked!

Thoroughly!

They didn't even have to try!

I mean, I figured we would lose. No, we knew we would lose, it was a virtual certainty, considering our level of expertise in the game. We just signed up for the competition to support the idea that we were a real chess club. But a funny thing happened during the game. Losing did not sit well with any of us! It might be one thing to say it, but it was another thing entirely to be seen to be so thoroughly destroyed!

Even worse was the attitude of the other players, all those asshole beta males! Some of them demanded that we attend their practice sessions and learn from them. Others demanded to attend our practice sessions! Well, there was NO WAY either one of those options was going to happen! We refused all such demands. We stuck to our story that our primary motivation was the love of the game itself. That answer went over better than I had thought it would. Assholes beta-males they may have all been, the only female genitalia they were ever likely to see was that of their own mothers, and only in passing, as they were born. But they still had some sort of respect, vestigial though it was, for the game of chess! Though they all still behaved like the kinds of assholes that made girls consider having sex with girls, instead of them.

Our second competition was also a blood bath. This club was organized by our school's Physics Department and was comprised of students, faculty, and staff. And even a couple of their professors. They were mostly all male. They had one female member, her name was Samantha Hayes, and she was their best player. She was also adorable! Just this perfectly cute, little five-two, perfectly proportioned, nicely endowed little bundle of femininity. And she wore glasses! She had that sexy librarian look locked down! Lovely light-brown hair in a cute, short Pageboy cut. And she was a merciless, ruthless competitor! Overall, most of the guys were much nicer to deal with, if entirely clueless about how to behave around women or generally be sociable in polite society. Most of them mumbled. Most of them wouldn't look you in the eye when they spoke. Smart? Oh, yes. Doomed to celibacy? Yes. Unless one of the girls took pity on them.

So, that was blood-bath number two. It sucked even worse than our first loss because the Physics Club was, generally, so much nicer than the Music Dept Club had been.

The third competition was also a complete loss, and this loss really stung because the Athletics Department organized it. These guys were dumb, full of themselves, and behaved without manners. They had several female members, but it was obvious they were only there to hang out with their boyfriends, who generally treated them poorly. How poorly? On our first utter, total, humiliating defeat? Becky, our resident confirmed lesbian, went home with three of their girls. Their formerly "Thought-they-were-straight! No, really!" girls. And true to our club's standards, she showed them a better time than their guys ever had! And she recruited them into our club! Go, Becky!"

Well. It was one thing to be beaten by people who are smarter than you. Getting clobbered by a bunch of dickheads who you know you are smarter than? That stung! Clearly, for the honor of the club, steps would have to be taken!

###

After a night of conciliatory sex, welcoming the three formerly straight-only girls into our ranks, swelling our ranks to thirteen, the War Council had a post-coital meeting. The War Council, of course, was Cassandra, Lisa, me, and our recognized Auxiliary Select Special Guest Committee: Jenn and Martha. Being as it was a meeting of such extraordinary importance, we met in the executive chambers, sans clothes. Because whatever a girl has to say? On whatever topic? If she's discussing it in the nude, with a loving mouth clamped to her vagina, tonguing her clit, fingering her g-spot, then you can bet she is most likely speaking the truth. As this was a matter of such great importance to the club, we had to enact such measures. We couldn't take any chances!

"OK!" I said, more loudly than I had intended, as Jenn's tongue made contact with my clit. "M-mmmm-meeting is c-c-called ...Ah! ... to order!"

Lisa, likewise, having Martha's loving lips clamped to her own clit said, managed to say, "Wh- wh- why are we here?"

Cassandra, having her own difficulties on account of Becky tonguing her asshole, said, "B!-B!-be-cause ...AHH! ... we (pant, pant, pant) need to discuss whether or not to offer special m-m-membership to S-s-s-s-." Sweet Becky had just about brought Cassandra to orgasm, so Lisa finished for her:

"Samantha!" Lisa managed to gasp out.

"Pre-" AHH! "-cisely!" I managed to say, before Jenn's tender ministrations to my pussy caused me to groan inarticulately for the next two minutes as my body writhed beneath her loving touch. It wasn't just her tongue that was wrecking me, or her hot breath spilling over my crotch as she made gleeful love to my most intimate anatomy. Oh, no! It was watching Martha go down so lovingly on my now dearly beloved Lisa!

It was watching Becky, dear, lesbian-only Becky, go down on Cassandra, with lustful relish, with unmistakable love in her heart, for Cassandra. Becky, before we invited her into the club, had been the prototypical loner Dyke, wanting no connection with the larger society, asking only to be left alone to those few women who understood her. When I had first invited her into the club, she had refused. Lisa had invited her, but again, Becky had declined. However, when Cassandra asked her to join, she accepted! Becky had made love with us all, and was always a kind and considerate lover. But you could tell it was Cassandra whom she truly loved! You only had to take one look at the two of them together, and you could see it.

So, while the meeting was officially underway, we were beset with serious obstacles to accomplishing Club business! It turns out that having sex during a meeting is great for sex, but not so great for getting anything settled. It was a great idea at the time. However, steps had to be taken!

"Ladies, please!" I called out, then gasped for breath for a few moments, "PLEASE! While this seemed like a promising idea at the time, it just isn't working! We have serious business to discuss! Would you please stop licking my pussy?"

Jenn looked up at me and said, "Ok. You guys go ahead and talk away. Me, Martha, and Becky will go down on each other!"

And with that, they formed a triangle, each on their side, their mouths fastened to each other's genitalia, their bottom leg serving as a pillow for the woman attached to her pussy, their upper leg crossed over the body of the woman beneath her, softly writhing in each other's arms, softly crying into each other's pussies, the pleasure of one affecting the pleasure of the other two in a beautiful feedback loop.

That, too, was still damn distracting, but we were all now able to function, so the meeting continued.

"We have to have Samantha Hayes," Lisa said. "Without her to teach us, we're sitting ducks. No offense, Cassandra."

"None taken," Cassandra said, "I was only truly qualified to teach the Club the absolute basics of the game."

"But why would she consider leaving her current group to join us?" I asked. "Right now, she's a winner, in the top group. Why would she join the worst performing group on campus?"

Martha raised her hand, despite having Jenn's mouth firmly clamped to her right nipple, and Becky's mouth equally as firmly attached to her left nipple, both of their hands stroking and rubbing her slit.

"L-ladies? If I m-m-may? You h-h-h-have SO much more to offer her, th-th-th-than she is currently g-g-getting, I ass-s-s-sure you!"

It was so lovely to watch Martha have an orgasm. Her entire head, chest, and upper back flushed deep scarlet as her pelvic muscles induced spasms that rocked her whole body, leaving her breath shaking, her legs and arms shuddering, and her eyes rolling back into her head. Her voice keened wordlessly in ecstasy as she rode the waves of her orgasm. She was so beautifully helpless in the throes of orgasm that it ignited every nurturing instinct you had within your soul. The meeting paused for a moment as we all had to give her a warm hug, stroke her back, and taste the sweat on her glistening shoulders and breasts. It made me thankful to be alive to see such beauty in my bed!

We concluded the meeting with the decision to approach Samantha and see if we could entice her to our club.

###

The next day, I caught up with Samantha between classes and made the pitch about joining our club.

"Well," Samantha said, "It's good that you approached me about this. You guys need all the help you can get."

Okay, my first impression of Samantha was, "What an egomaniac!" An impression I kept to myself. Instead, I said, "I appreciate your honest assessment."

"No, really," Samantha said, "You guys are the worst. You have meetings twice a week, and I can't imagine what you're doing because while your collective skills have increased very well, with all the time you're putting in, it's like your club's focus is elsewhere."

"Um, er ..." I didn't know where to go with that.

"I'll join," she said.

"That's great!" I said, but she held up her hand and said,

"But not for the lesbianism."

Again, I didn't know what to say!

"Look," she said, "I don't mind the rest of you girls having some fun with each other. I'm straight, so I'll pass on ... all of that ... if you guys are ok with that? You can even make out while I'm there, as long as someone still wants to study Chess with me while I'm there. As long as I'm engaged in Chess, I don't care what the rest of you do. And you've all got to be easier to get along with than a bunch of horny physics majors who think it's "cute" that a girl plays Chess, even when she resoundingly beats them in every game."

"I think we can all agree to that," I said. "Our next meeting is Wednesday. Care to attend and make your membership official?"

"Deal!" she said, and stuck out her hand. I didn't understand. "This is where we shake hands on the deal," Samantha said.

"Oh, of course!" I shook her hand. Her hands, like her stature, were tiny. But they were also soft and warm.

"And call me "Sam." All my friends do."

"Of course, Sam," I said. "Um, Sam? How did you know about the club's ... other focus?"

"I put it together just now based on your reactions. Plus, I've watched you and Lisa together, these last few months, seen you growing closer to each other."

"How does everyone know about that except me?"

"Because you are always falling in love, Tish. Don't be embarrassed, you two are adorable!"

"Thank you." I don't know what she meant about me "always falling in love," though. I mean, yes, odds are, any time you ask me, there is someone special in my heart, sure. Like anyone else!

"And most people probably never noticed," Sam said. "Most people can't see what's right in front of them, most of the time. Being able to see what's really in front of you, where it might go, that's Chess, baby!"

Wednesday night, at the meeting, we voted on whether to accept Sam into our ranks. The vote passed unanimously.

"Very well," I said, "Club, say hello to our newest member!"

Everyone said hello, and hands were clapped. Then Lisa raised her hand and said, "Um, what about her rite of initiation?"

I was again at a loss for words! "Well, we don't want to force her to do anything she wouldn't be comfortable with," I said. "That's not what we're about!"

"What is your usual rite of initiation?" Sam asked.

"Two full members in good standing strip you naked and make love to you, front and back," Lisa said. "And we hold you in a standing position. You don't get to lie down until you orgasm."

"But Sam isn't joining for the same reasons the rest of us did," I said.

"Yes. But we all did it," Lisa said. "If she's going to be a part of the club, shouldn't she observe the traditions of the club?"

"But we're not here to force anyone into doing anything," I said. "I see your point, Lisa, yes, but-"

Sam raised her hand, and said, "May I offer a compromise?"

"Motion to consider a compromise to the standard initiation rite?" Lisa called out.

"Seconded," Cassandra said.

"All opposed?" Silence.

"All in favor?" The agreement was unanimous.

"Motion is carried," I said. "Sam, we will hear your compromise. You have the floor."

"Ok," Sam said. "Ladies, I'm straight. At least, I'm pretty sure I am-"

"We all thought the same thing, too!" Lisa said.

"Except me," Becky said.

"Ladies, order!" I said. "Sam has the floor!"

Sam continued as if she had not been interrupted. "As I was saying, I understand the rite of initiation is important to the club, that participating in it creates a bond among the membership, and is a show of commitment to the club. And serves to foster a level of intimacy between all the members. I can't ask to join your organization and then ignore its traditions. But I'm straight. Sex with a woman isn't something I want to do. So, here is my compromise: I will agree to be naked, and accept full hugs, front and rear, from every member of the group. For as long as each member wants to engage in the embrace. Because it's not that I'm homophobic. And I find the female body one of the most beautiful creations in God's great world. Heck, some of you," and she said this while looking at me and Lisa, "I may want to hold the embrace longer than you do. Hugs are lovely and wonderful.

"So, I'll share naked hugs with all of you. To prove my loyalty and solidarity to the club, to honor the club's traditions, and to foster a sense of shared intimacy. I'll be happy to do it in the nude. I'll even be happy to do the training in the nude. Would that be an acceptable alternative to the normal rite of initiation?"