Board Games (fm:oral sex, 2786 words)

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"Thank you, I know what an acronym is," I smiled. "What words?"

"Well, they have to make a sentence. Remember when you were a kid and you'd scrawl SWALK on the back of an envelope, ‘Sealed With A Loving Kiss'? Same thing. You look at your letters, think of a phrase, and then put it on the board."

"What happens if you can't think of one?" I was envisioning all those "Z"s that I'd mentioned. Throw in a few "Q"s and "K"s and you'd be well and truly stuck.

"That's where it gets interesting. You know what the phrase is, but your opponent doesn't. Which means, he can challenge you if he wants, and you have to tell him what it is. But if he doesn't challenge, it doesn't matter what you put down."

"And if you don't have a phrase?"

"Then he... or I, sorry... gets a free go, and you have to act out whatever they put down. But if you do have an answer, then you get the free go. Oh, and every phrase has to be three letters or more."

I raised my eyebrows. With the right players and the right letters, and for all my earlier misgivings, this was actually beginning to sound entertaining.

"Oh, and one other thing. No challenge can last longer than a minute. So if, say, you have me doing a handstand, I only have to do it for sixty seconds. And if you want me to do another one, you have to have the right letters. Now, shall I go first?"

Without waiting for my answer, he laid down his first word, S-O-T-T, then drew four fresh letters from the bag.

"Okay, I'll challenge." The only way I was going to gauge the direction that this game was destined to move in was if I investigate every possibility.

"Switch On The Television."

I picked up the remote control, and CNN flickered into life. "Your go again, I think?"

M-E-S-T. I let it pass, and took my turn. R-U-Y-S. His turn.

Ten minutes passed and the board was filling up. It's funny, I thought playing this way would be easier than the "real" thing, but your mind just blanks when you have to come up with phrase after phrase, all the more so when you know you want them to start drifting into risqué territory, but never seem to get the letters you need. What wouldn't I give, I smiled to myself, for a B and a J right now?

Almost as if he read my mind, he spoke. "Is Blowjob one word or two?"

"Two, stupid," I smiled, and then froze as he produced them both and played them at the end of a row of letters.

He looked at me expectantly. So far, the only physical contact between us (apart from when I fell on him, while trying to balance on tip-toes) had been one kiss and an insistently spelled-out Quick Cuddle. But we'd certainly warmed to one another - the consequence, I imagined, of sitting face to face for so long, wracking our brains for something saucy to spell. I read aloud the letters he'd played: L-V-D-H-B-J. Okay, I'll challenge."

"Shit. I was so sure you'd let that one pass."

"Come on, what is it?" I insisted.

"I haven't got a clue. Your go."

I looked at my letters. I had an S and an M, but I'd been saving them for either a C or an N. Then I spotted a P hanging free on the board. Got it. P-Y-H-A-M-G.

"Please..." he began. "Please You Hump...?"

I shook my head and laughed. "It's not the most inviting sentence I've ever uttered," I cautioned. "But here goes: ‘Place Your Hand Against My Gusset'."

He moved closer, and slipped his hand between my legs. I don't know if the wetness he discovered there surprised him, but the pressure of his fingers only increased my flow. I tried to remember to count the 60 seconds, but my head was suddenly filled with other thoughts, ideas, and phrases. Finally, and so unwillingly, I shifted away. "Time's up."

He remained close, his knee just touching me, as I played out my next turn and, for a few minutes more, the game continued on. I was still eyeing that J he played earlier, though, even as I absent-mindedly challenged his bold L-M-C, and spent the next minute running my tongue through his a forest of wiry chest-hair. Shame he never had an N for Nipples, though.

But I had an M at last; two of them in fact, and with that spare Y in the bottom corner... S-Y-B-I-M-M.

He glanced at my. "Is that what I hope it is?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, I challenge."

I was already unbuttoning his pants. "Stick Your Balls In My Mouth."

That was the last move. The board was full, too many innocuous phrases at the beginning of the game had used up all the spaces and most of the letters. "Start again!" I demanded, and he swept the letters back into the bag. "You go first."

"No two letter ones, you said."

"No."

"Okay. L-M-O."

"Too easy. But go on, I challenge."

I rose, raised my shirt and pulled down my panties. They were sopping, and I kicked them across the room, then positioned myself in front of his face, pushing him back on the ground as I crouched above him. "Lick Me Out."

Sixty seconds is too quick. As soon as he found his rhythm, it was time to stop. Now I knew why this game was so compulsive; as soon as something started to happen - in every sense of the words - it had to end again. But I cheated a little, let the pause between the seconds linger longer than it should have and, when I finally rose, Pete was looking at my letters before I was. "Play the A. At the end of the sentence. And I promise I'll challenge you again."

I did what he said, and looked at him curiously. "Lick me out..."

"Again, you dummy." And before I could answer, he was between my thighs once more, his tongue snaking furiously through my folds, his fingers stretching me wider. "Please, don't stop." I couldn't help myself and, for a few delicious seconds, I thought the game might finally be at an end. But, if I wasn't counting, Pete was. "And, as I gave you that one," he said, "I think you should forfeit your extra turn and let me have a go. I'll make it worth your while."

I sat back. S-M-C. Well, that didn't take much working out, did it? "Um, I think we're losing the competitive side of the game here," I said. "Not to mention the imaginative angle. Why don't you try that again?"

He removed the letters, looked disappointed for a second; and, I had to confess, I shared the mood. But only for a second. L-M-H-A-S. I figured there was a Lick in there, and probably a Suck as well. But what did they sandwich? Nothing that I could think of.

"Lick My Helmet And Suck," he revealed triumphantly. "I knew I'd get there in the end."

"I knew I would, as well," I agreed as I took his cock in hand and, so dutifully, ran my tongue slowly across his glans... but only his glans; rules are rules. Thirty seconds licking, thirty seconds sucking. It sounded so simple when I put it that way. But the moment my mouth closed over him, and his flavor seeped into my tongue - fuck, thirty seconds? I could happily suck his cock for thirty minutes, and still come back for more.

Again, he interrupted my reverie. How can he remain such a stickler to the rules, I wondered? And was there any way around it? Yes. But I needed the letters first.

The next few moves passed without incident. I challenged him once, and he confessed he'd just laid down gibberish. And so did I on my extra turn, so we plowed on. But every time I had to take some new letters, while his eyes were glued so firmly to the board, I sneaked a little peek inside the bag... and cheat or no cheat, I got what I wanted in the end.

E-M-I-T-C.

He stared at the letters. "Okay, that one's totally bogus."

"Really?" I smiled my most innocent smile. "Do you want to challenge?"

"No... I don't know." He looked at his letters. "Should I?"

"It might be interesting." (You'd better, I thought.)

"Okay, I challenge. But if it's another of your nonsense ones, I'm warning you. My next one could be really disgusting."

Damn; now that's my curiosity raging. But no, play fair. "You asked for it - Eat Me, Ignore The Clock."

"Hey, that's cheating! I think." But that was the extent of his protests. With my legs hooked over his shoulders, and my hands in his hair, guiding his movements, who could possibly find anything to complain about? What I wasn't expecting, after who knows how many minutes spent soaking up the most exquisite sensations, with his spit and my pussy juice warm and sticky on my thighs, was for him to suddenly rise, turn to the board and rearrange a whole slew of letters without a word to my. Y-C-W-Y-G-T-R-L.

"Hey! Now who's cheating?"

"Challenge me if you like."

"Challenge you? I'll pull your cock off in a minute."

"Fine. Y-C-W-Y-G-T-R-L. You'll Come When You Get The Right Letters. And that's another turn for me. Oh, and don't think I didn't see you choosing your letters the last few times. Maybe I'd better be in charge of the bag from now on." He snatched it up and deposited it on the far side of the board.

I hurrumphed loudly, and though his next turn was one of the most obvious (and inviting!) of the entire game, I held my tongue and simply lay down my own next letters. L-A-T-V.

He chuckled and his eyes swept the room. "Look at that vase," he guessed correctly. "Don't worry, though, I can hold out for as long as you like. Plus, I have a secret weapon." He plucked three letters off his tray. "If the worst comes to the worst, I can always J-M-O."

"Which means?"

"Jerk Myself Off. And I might not let you watch."

"You may not have a choice." I laid out my letters slowly; thought for a moment, and then took back a couple, and replaced them. S-T-T-I.

"Challenge."

"Slip The Tip In," I answered, and he grinned slyly. "In where, that's the question." Standing and gripping his cock, he massaged it for a few moments, then wiped the end slowly down my face, pausing at a nostril, moving round to one ear, then backing away and laying my down slowly. I parted my legs and he knelt above my, smiling. "You still haven't told me, and the clock's ticking."

I grabbed at him and pulled hard, guiding him into my pussy; felt my lips part gratefully around his hardness, and fought hard against the instinct to simply wrap my legs around his thighs and draw him deep within. He was fighting, too. The delicate thrusts with which he bathed his helmet were growing heavier every time; I guess-timated the time and wriggled away. "My turn again, I think?"

And again and again, as I embarked upon one of those lucky runs where every fresh selection of letters spelled out ever more delightful combinations, and every challenge he uttered brought us closer and closer to the end of the game, and the end of ourself-control. But still I was shocked when he reached into the bag and handed me the last of the letters from within... a C, an O, an M - and there on the board, just begging to be used, was a T. With a triumphant cry, I made my move. And, with an equally glorious cry, he completed his.

WE were lying back against the couch, my head in his lap, his hands gently toying with my hair. "So how many times have you played that in the past?" I asked.

"Never. That was the first time. In fact, I made most of it up as we went along."

"You did a good job. I'm not sure I could play it more than once a night, though. There were moments there where I felt like strangling you for sticking to the clock like you did."

"Well, what do you think about turning the clock off, just to see what might happen next?" he suggested.

I turned my head and kissed his heavy softness, then used my tongue to guide it between my lips. I never did actually reply, but I'd really had enough of words for one night. Actions can say a lot as well.

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LUST4LIFE writes Tue 22 Apr 2025 01:33:

Beautiful! That is a marvelous fun night in!

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