0 comments/ 52055 views/ 1 favorites The Rules By: UCE I have been in a long-term relationship with you for several years and quite frankly, it's gotten _really_, _really_ dull! Sure, you like to have sex in a lot of different positions and places, but big deal! Each time, it all boils down to boring conventional sex. Ho Hum! While you fascinate me as a person and are very lovable, your sexual imagination sucks hot ass! I've got to do something to liven things up between us and soon else I might find myself going behind your back--and I'd hate myself for that kind of betrayal. When I first met you, you hinted around that you sometimes liked the kind of sex I call "rough trade," but as you grew to love and admire me, it seemed you let that part of yourself atrophy, as if you felt it would be terrible to do that kind of thing to someone as wonderful as myself. Well, hmm, that gives me an idea. Maybe if I made myself a little less "wonderful" for a period of time, those feelings of yours might re-emerge. It's worth a try. At this point, _anything's_ worth a try. All that's needed now is a structure to make my change of self plausible. OK, I've got it! I approach you one evening after we've finished watching our favorite TV show together. I am serious and sincere: "Honey, how would you like to play a game with me over the next few days? A sexual game?" You are unequivocally enthusiastic, just as I knew you'd be. I explain the my idea: the rules are that, over the next four days, we will not have sex. This will allow the desire and tension between us to build. Furthermore, while you can masturbate all you want, you _cannot_ come until the four days is up. No orgasms until Sunday, at exactly this time. In addition, you cannot touch me or kiss me during that time. I then ask him to give me his word that he will abide by the rules. Silly man, he promises, perhaps not remembering that, while he's usually a "twice a day" man, we've both just had a very busy week and therefore neither of us has had any sexual satisfaction for over six days. I mentally rub my hands in glee. "Thank you so much for agreeing to try this with me," I whisper in his ear as I rub my body up against him. He puts his arms around me, forgetting. "No touching!" I remind him. "Hey! But _you're_ touching _me_!" he responds. "Yeah," I laugh, "but there's nothing in the rules that says I can't!" I let him off for the rest of the night. We both go to sleep, and when I find him rolling over to my side of the bed, I wake him up and remind him about the no touching rule, even in sleep. He grumbles a bit at being awakened each of the five times that I have to do so. The next evening, after we've had dinner, I tell him I feel grungy and am going up to take a shower. I ask innocently if he wants to watch, and he is all for this. I do a strip tease for him in the bedroom, slowly removing each article of clothing, half putting it back on, then letting it drop to the floor. As I expected, he takes his cock out of his shorts and starts to play with it. Once my clothes are off, I do some "busywork": I examine my breasts for lumps--hmmm, it looks pretty lumpy around the nipples, I better pay special attention to them. Honey, does this look like a lump to you? Look real closely now. Oops! sorry, didn't mean to hit you in the face with that! I pretend to not be able to find my nightgown, and look for it in the lowest drawer in the dresser, bending over with my legs straight, slightly spread, and my back to him, naturally. I then crawl onto the bed where he is sitting, his hand moving faster and faster, and bend wayyyy over the other side so I can look for the nightgown. Ah! There it is, I say with much squirming and bottom-wiggling. "Way, way under there!" He's starting to groan now. Tee. Hee. And look at this cute pink gauzy scarf I found under there too! Remember this scarf, honey? You gave it to me for our second anniversary. Mmmm, I'm feeling so _nasty_ right now, I think I'm going to stick in my bottom crack so it looks like I'm wearing a pink gauzy tail. Still on my hands and knees, I lower my head to the bed and slowly insert the scarf corner into my anus, making sure he can see every detail of the insertion. "Neigh!" I feel like a pony and prance and skip around the room, my breasts and the scarf bouncing in rhythm. I then jump into his lap and grab him around the neck, wiggling my naked ass against his thighs. "Am I a nice pony, sir? Would you buy me at the state fair?" He almost grabs me but then remembers and moans. I jump off him quickly, ask him to pull the scarf out (I don't want to get it wet), then hop into the shower. "Are you coming, dear?" I ask sweetly, as I lather up. For this occasion, I've installed a new shower curtain, perfectly clear, although the thick plastic makes my body look slightly out of focus. He sits on the toilet seat watching me caress myself with the soap. I make sure he sees me clean every part of myself, very thoroughly. Afterwards, he asks if he can dry me off, saying that it wouldn't really be touching because it would be through a towel, and I let him do a little of that--just a little though. Afterwards I think to myself that I've never had such a dry pussy after a shower before. The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, although each time I get up in my white, thin nightgown, he stares hungrily at me. During the night I must again push him away from me several times. I note with satisfaction that his cock is hard each time. On Friday, I rent some porn movies, just the kind he likes to watch, plus a few of the "rougher" ones that I like but have not ventured to rent with him before. Again, poor man, he _plays_ with himself while watching them and has a hard time stopping. For some time, I lay on the couch with him over his lap, my head on the arm of the couch, my bottom in the see-through nightie slightly arched. I can tell it's driving him mad not to be able to touch my olive-brown skin so clearly visible under the thin layer of cloth. "This is so FUCKING HARD!" he gasps at one point. "Well, you agreed to it, silly!" I respond, then giggle uncontrollably. For the first time (but not the last) he calls me "Bitch!" I am delighted and respond enthusiastically as I wiggle my ass "Nah Nah, Nah Nah NAH!" When the last tape (which depicts a pretty extreme and realistic S&M-rape scenario), is halfway over and in one of the hottest scenes, I suddenly stop the tape and say that I have a surprise in store for him. I stand up and tell him I'll be back in five or ten minutes. "Don't worry," I say in my "mysterious" voice, "it's worth waiting for." I go upstairs and change, then go sit on the floor under the TV, facing him. I tell him that I'd love to watch him masturbating, watching me and this film, while I masturbate, too. I've changed into this extremely slutty outfit I found in a catalog: it's a matching turquoise top and hot pants. The long sleeved midriff-baring top is very conservative--it goes all the way up my neck! Only problem is, my dark brown nipples peek out these two little zippered holes in front. They looked a little plain, probably because I've seen them every day of my life for years, so I took a bright red-orange lip gloss (that tastes like pomegranate--yum!) and prettied them up. Even with the nice lipstick coating, however, they're kind of cold out in the chilled air, so I've attached one end of a little silver chain to each nip in the hopes of keeping them warmer. My nipples are not pierced, so the attachments are "clip-on": two tiny pairs of silver handcuffs. Over the neck part of the top I've put a slim leather collar with silver lettering that reads "Peter's Slave." (Good name for this guy, isn't it?) I attach some very long silver-chained slutty earrings to my ears. The hot pants are made of the same turquoise material, small and stretchy, only (and this is what attracted me in the first place) they have the word "cunt" written at least a hundred times across them in bold silver letters. They aren't big enough to lay properly in the back, particularly over my big bottom, and after taking just a couple of steps they've snuck far up into my ass crack, which is kind of uncomfortable, but I'm always willing to suffer for a good cause. As the pants are slung low over my hips, I decide to accent my waist with a bikini chain. Finally, I don a pair of white ankle boots from the same catalog: they have the pain-in-the-ass little hooks up the front that you have to loop the leather cord through before tying them off at the top. These booties have an amazing amount of cord left over after they are laced, however, so I crisscross the while laces up my brown legs, tying them off near the tops of my thighs. I'm not exactly fat, but I have plenty of flesh on my legs, so the skin slightly plumps out between the crisscrossings. I tease my long hair a little bit to give it that 60s look (plus, in a story like this, what could hair be other than teased?), and then I'm done. Back down the stairs I wobble (should never have gotten such high heels--I just can't wear them) and model in front of my partner, turning around so he can view me from all sides. I bend over, arch my back, pick up my breasts from underneath and push them together, almost touching his face, and dance a little bit (before I almost fall down). "You like?" I ask. He just nods with a glazed look in his eyes. Hehehe! This is so fun! I then get on the floor and crawl slowly over to the TV, start the final tape, and sit down on the floor underneath it, legs spread, knees up a little, facing him. I imagine that I look like a kinky Barbie doll. "Hey kiddo," I say affectionately, over the noise of the loud screaming coming from the tape, "Did you know that I just lovvve watching you masturbate? There's something so primitive and rough about it. It really turns me on! Would you play with yourself right now while I watch and at the same time I'll play with myself for you?" His answer is a growl of half pain/half lust. I take that for a yes. He starts to slowly rub his large and well-shaped cock (it's one of those odd curvy ones that looks like a scimitar) while staring at me like I'm a big pot of steaming jambalaya and he's a starving man who's been lost in the bayou with nothing to eat for several weeks. I slowly pull aside the crotch of my hot pants (the idea that I'm moving aside the "cunts" to reveal a cunt delights me--sorry, I'm just weird) and his eyes bug out when he sees that I'm completely shaved. It's the first time he's seen me like that. I am surprised too, at how very wet I am... [We interrupt this story for an editorial remark: I, the writer, am also very wet at this point and rather surprised by it: I don't usually think of myself as getting off on cockteasing. It just isn't something that has a chance to, um, blossom much in our relationship. If I try to tease my master, I can get away with it for about five minutes, max, before I'm suddenly getting very sore and wishing that I hadn't.] I start to play with myself as I watch him getting more and more excited, seeing both the actions on the tape and the action below the tape. I occasionally turn my head backwards to catch a glimpse of what's happening on the screen, so I can comment on it. "Oh wow, look at the humiliating position they've tied that woman in! She can't hide anything!" "Look what they're putting in her bottom--how does she take that?" "Wow, what a mean whipping! Look at those stripes up and down her back, and look at the way she's bucking and wiggling, trying to get away. But the poor thing has nowhere to run. That looks like so much fun! I wish I were her." Suddenly my husband gasps hard and quickly pulls his hand away from himself. Just in time, too! He's leaking a little from the tip. I continue to play with myself in front of him, faster and faster, and have a huge orgasm. "Oooo, that felt so GOOD!" I say. He then gives me a very mean look. I swear, he did! My sweet and wonderful Peter looked at me meanly! We manage to get through the night. Well, he does, anyway. I have a wonderful deep sleep! The next day is Saturday and we go to see the zoo. It's ridiculous to live in a city famous for it's zoo for over two years without seeing it. I wear a flirty little sundress with a short flared skirt, sandals, and nothing on underneath it. There's a brisk wind blowing that day, so I manage to accidentally-on-purpose flash poor Peter--and a few other folks who just happened to be there--quite a few times. One of the strangers who catches my skirt being blown up tells Peter what a lucky guy he is, and Peter gives _him_ a mean look! Heeheheheheheee! When we get home, Peter starts to talk about all the things (some of them not very nice) that he's going to do to me when the game is finished. I especially like the one where he's going to pinch my nipples till I start to scream and then keep pinching them for another ten minutes. "That is, if I LET you!" I tell him pertly, and with a shit-eating grin. All right!!! Another mean look!!! (Wish there was someone else around in this story whom I could high-five.) I let my poor dear frustrated partner alone for the rest of the evening, but late that night when he goes out to return the tapes, I am suddenly struck with a brilliant idea. We bought this really cool sleigh bed from a furniture store last year that we couldn't really afford because I loved it so much. The corners of the sleigh have lion's heads on them which face inwards toward the mattress and in each lion's mouth is affixed a large brass ring. I quickly strip then pull two pairs of metal handcuffs and two pairs of leg cuffs (they look like the handcuffs, only the holes are larger) out of the place that I've been hiding them from Peter. I also take out the keys and toss them on the carpet a few feet from the bed. I then quickly cuff my ankles and wrists, one set of cuffs to each limb. I attach the other end of each leg cuff to one of the brass rings at the foot of the bed, and the other ends of the arm cuffs to the rings at the head of the bed. The last cuff is really tricky: I'm kind of stretched out already and so I have to throw it several times till the open cuff hooks onto the ring. Then my stretching my hand as far as it will go I manage to close the cuff. I'm stretched out tight on the bed, with no way to get out of the cuffs. What an interesting experiment this should be! I wait for Mr. Peter to get home. I hear the door open and then slam, downstairs. I hear him walking around the house, then a few minutes later he yells, "Honey, where are you?" "I'm up here," I yell back, "And I think I'm stuck! Could you come help me?" I collapse into giggles, and that's how he finds me, completely spread out, buck naked, and giggling uncontrollably. "The keys are on the floor, in front of you!" I gasp between laughter, "could you get me out of this, please?" He folds his arms and stares at me, and the look he's wearing now is _really_ mean, and he's smiling a little too, which makes it all the worse. "Remember the rules!" I tell him, a little alarm creeping in past the hilarity. Without a word, he picks up the keys, uncuffs me, and goes downstairs to watch TV. What a spoilsport! I think. But I have to admit, I admire his self-control and determination. The last day of our "game" passes uneventfully, which just a little visual and tactile teasing from me. He's hard constantly, now, I notice with satisfaction. As the ending hour draws near, I think of what I'm going to do next, if he tries to jump me, like I expect. I decide I'll feign a headache and giggle to myself. No harm in pushing this on another day. A half hour before "that" time, I am in the kitchen doing the dishes. I hear him walk in behind me and just stand there, about an inch away from my back, but not touching me. So I stick my buns out and bump him in the crotch a couple of times. Mmmm! That always feels so good! Suddenly, I feel one large arm going round my waist, and the other roughly grabbing my breasts and squeezing hard. "Hey!" I say indignantly, "There's still twenty more minutes before the game ends! You're breaking the rules!" "Fuck the rules," he says, in a tone of voice I've never heard him use before. It sends shivers up my spine. I start to struggle, but I can't get away from him. This makes me mad: "How dare you!" I say. "Let me go this instant!" "No." The End The Rules I awoke in his arms as I always do. He was awake, watching me sleep. He smiled and brushed a strand of hair off my face. I closed my eyes and waited to feel his lips on mine, my favourite way to wake up. Our lips pressed together, our tongues twisted. No other parts of our bodies touched. It was a little rule he had some mornings. I loved every inch of our skin touching, but I also enjoyed playing by his rules once in a while. I always regretted when his lips left mine, I could kiss him forever. He got out of bed and headed for the shower. When the water had been running for a few minutes, I got up to go join him, as he expected. I climbed in behind him and took the soap from his hand. I lathered every inch of his body, taking my time and lingering in certain places. Although his rules were pretty much non-negotiable, he always let me take my time running the soap all over his body. I breathed deeply the scent of the sweet smelling soap mixing with the scent of his skin. When he'd rinsed all the lather off, I squirted some of his favourite shampoo into my hand. He loved it when I washed his hair, sometimes making me shampoo it twice. He said he loved my fingers rubbing through his hair, massaging his scalp. I loved doing it because it let me touch him longer. When the shampoo was rinsed out, it was his turn to lather me. I stood with the hot water pelting me, his hands all over my body. This was one of his rules he wasn't very strict about. He took as much time lathering my body as I did his, lingering for long moments in his favourite spots. He loved washing my hair. He asked all the time if he could, even on days we weren't using his rules. He said he thought it was intimate and sensual and loved running his fingers through it. I don't think he knew I loved it as much as he did. Sometimes he loved it so much, he'd shampoo twice and then condition. My friends were always asking me who did my hair, it always looked great. I just smiled and thought of the reason why. When he finished rinsing my hair, he reached and turned the water off. He stepped out of the shower and took my hand to help me out. He grabbed a fluffy white towel and dried me off, lingering in his favourite spots again. He like toweling my hair dry, letting it hang wet while it dried. I took a towel and dried him off, paying special attention to certain spots. We went back into the bedroom and I sat on the bed to watch him get dressed. This was another one of his rules, one I think he knew I didn't mind at all. I stayed naked all day while he wore what he knew I loved, what drove me absolutely wild, what he knew I thought was sexy and couldn't resist. What he knew would keep me hot all day and would have made me crazy for him by the end of the day. A pair of blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I think he liked teasing me like that. Before we left the bedroom, he put on some of his cologne, knowing it was my favourite, too and would drive me crazy every time I smelled it all day. We went to the kitchen where he cooked us breakfast. He liked me to sit at the table where he could look at me while he cooked. Sometimes he'd come over and kiss me just long enough for me to start to get wet then he'd pull away. He knew he did this to me, knew when I was wet. When he went back to his cooking, he'd ask me to sit so he could see how wet I was. I loved sitting like this for him. Then he'd come over and kiss me again, his fingers would brush over my nipples until they were both hard and then his hands would fall away. While his mouth was still pressed to mine, his leg would be between mine, rubbing against my pussy. He would kiss me and rub against me until I moaned, then he would stop and go back to cooking. I always tried to hold it back, but I could never help myself and his lips would leave mine too soon. By the time breakfast was ready, my lips would be swollen from his kisses, my nipples would be hard and throbbing, and my pussy would be glistening, dripping. He always sat beside me instead of across so he could touch me whenever and wherever he wanted to. Always stopping as soon as I moaned. I loved eating breakfast with him. His only rule was I wasn't allowed to touch him except for kissing and only his lips. And that he would stop what he was doing as soon as I moaned. After breakfast we loaded the dishwasher together. He said he loved watching me work around the kitchen naked. I loved doing it, too, but I wouldn't tell him that. When the kitchen was clean, it was time to tidy the rest of the house. Time for him to tidy the rest of the house. He knew it drove me wild to watch him in his blue jeans and t-shirt. Sometimes I think he showed off a little, bending just so, making his ass look even better than it normally did, trying to trick me into breaking the rules and touching him. That had only happened once, and I wouldn't consider what happened punishment. As he cleaned, he liked me to touch myself, sometimes my tits, sometimes my pussy, sometimes both. He would keep cleaning when I started, pretending he didn't want to watch. This usually only lasted the first few seconds and then his eyes would be glued to me. He had a rule for this, too, as soon as I moaned I had to take my hands off myself. It didn't matter how quiet I was, either, he always heard me and made me stop immediately. I never got to cum during the day, I always had to wait until later, but by the time he let me, I was wild. When the cleaning was done, he sometimes went outside to do something around the yard. He never asked me to go out with him, but he did like me to stay where he could see me so he knew I wasn't touching myself when I wasn't supposed to be. By this time, if I had broken the rules and touched myself, he would have heard me even way out in the yard. He was never out for very long, just a few minutes. I don't think he could stand to be away from me for very long, especially when he could see me standing there in the window, naked. He always kissed me long and hard when he came back inside as if we'd been apart for five years instead of five minutes. He even rubbed against me a little, letting me feel him through his sexy blue jeans. Now it was lunch time. I sat at the table watching him put together a couple of sandwiches. There was no kissing or touching while he got lunch ready. He sat across the table from me at lunch time. No touching, not even our feet bumping against each other. We ate our lunch, making small talk, both of us concentrating on not touching. I was used to his rules, enjoyed playing his game, always knew what was coming next. When lunch was over and the kitchen cleaned, he asked me to pull the chair away from the table, sit down, and open my legs wide. I loved this rule. He got on his knees in front of me, looking up at me, smiling, both of us knowing the rules. He bent his head and kissed my thighs, inching his way to my pussy that was getting wetter with every kiss. He kissed my pussy lips and I bit my tongue. His tongue licked my lips, licking up some of my wetness. I tangled my fingers in his hair and he looked up at me while his tongue slid inside my lips. I sucked in my breath and waited for his tongue to hit my clit. As soon as it did, I moaned. I couldn't help it, he had me so hot. He stood up and told me to come into the living room with him. I got up, hot and soaking wet thinking he'd never said anything about screaming. Maybe if I screamed next time instead of moaning he wouldn't stop. We sat beside each other on the couch, close, but not an inch of our skin touching. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. We always watched something hot and sexy. Another one of his rules. Another one I didn't mind, but would never tell him. He liked to get me hot, knowing I couldn't do anything about it unless he said so and then not for very long. He found a movie that was showing a pretty erotic scene. I stared at the screen unable to tear my eyes away. I jumped when I felt his hand between my legs although I knew he'd been going to touch me. I spread my legs and loved how his fingers felt slipping inside me one at a time. I kept watching the movie as his fingers moved over my clit. I bit down on my lip, forbidding any sound to come out. I moved my hips against his hand and felt his eyes on my face. He loved watching my face while he did stuff to me and I loved him watching me. As his fingers moved faster, I tried to hold back, but couldn't any longer. I screamed. He laughed and said there was a new rule. No screaming. I watched the movie again, my pussy dripping onto the couch. He reached over once in a while and played with my tits. Until I moaned. I always moaned. He always stopped when I moaned. Sometimes I hated his rules. When the movie was over he shut off the TV. He sat there and I could feel his eyes moving over me. He said he could see I had enjoyed the movie. I looked at him and his eyes were on my pussy. I looked down. My lips were swollen and open, my clit was hard, and I was glistening. I think I had enjoyed his hands more than the movie. It was time for one of my favourite rules. He got up and stood in front of me, pulling me to the edge of the couch. I closed my eyes as he rubbed against my face, letting me feel the bulge in his pants grow harder. He rubbed against me until he was moaning, needing to be released. He was allowed to moan. I unzipped his pants and let his hard, throbbing cock loose. He took it in his hand and rubbed the head of it on my face, knowing I'd be able to smell him for the rest of the day. His cock brushed my lips. I managed not to moan. I opened my mouth and slowly let him in, licking and tasting him. He moaned and I took him in deeper. He liked when I held and squeezed his balls while I had him deep in my mouth. Sometimes I'd take my time, wanting to feel him in my mouth for a while. Other times I'd be too greedy to taste every drop of his hot liquid as it burst from him that I couldn't control myself. Today was one of those days. I licked and sucked him, squeezing his balls until he was moaning uncontrollably and thrusting his hips hard into my face. He whispered my name as his cum spilled onto my tongue and I drank every drop. He liked me to lick him clean before doing up his jeans again. So did I. He got on his knees in front of me and kissed me. He liked tasting himself in my mouth, trying to suck his taste off my tongue. I found this so sexy it made me soaking wet and I almost moaned, stopping myself, not wanting his lips to leave mine yet. We kissed long and passionately. Until his finger slipped inside me and rubbed my clit. Once. I moaned. He stopped. I hated his rules. It was time for a nap. We went and crawled into bed. Me naked, him in his blue jeans and white t-shirt. He liked to sleep cuddled up to my back, one of his legs between mine, one arm wrapped around me, cupping my tit. I loved sleeping like this. Sometimes he'd wake me up rubbing against me. I'd be able to feel his hard cock against my ass even through his jeans. I loved sleeping in his arms, our legs wrapped together. I loved the way he woke me up. Sometimes it was hard to fall asleep like this, I'd rather roll over and ravish him. I did fall asleep and so did he. We stayed wrapped together and he woke me up by rubbing against my ass and squeezing my tit. I rolled over in his arms and kissed him, his arms still around me, his leg still between mine, now rubbing against my pussy. He kept rubbing harder and I couldn't help but moan. I stopped kissing him and expected him to stop, too, but he surprised me and said he thought we should cut the game short, forget the rules, skip supper, and stay where we were until tomorrow. I told him that sounded like a good idea to me, but that I had one more rule. Although it was my favourite and he looked damn sexy, he had to lose the jeans and t-shirt. He laughed and hurriedly took them off saying that was the last rule of the night. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me and for the first time all day let me feel his cock against my pussy. We both moaned. I climbed on top of him and sank down onto him, needing to feel him inside me. I rode him fast and hard never taking my mouth off his. After being teased all day, I needed to cum, feel him cum with me. His hips thrust hard into me, his back arching. We came at the same time, kissing and moaning, our juice mixing. I fell into his arms, still kissing, wanting to devour him, knowing we had all night with no rules. I kissed my way down his body, making my way to his cock. He sighed as my lips hit him and I got up and turned around, hovering my pussy over his face. I moaned as his tongue hit my pussy, slipping inside, and moving in my juice. I took his cock deep in my throat and couldn't wait to taste him again. I slid my pussy around on his face, getting him wet with our cum. I moaned at his mouth on me, sucking him harder. I wished the night would last forever, wanting to taste him over and over again, feel him inside me, our cum mixing together again and again, kissing, licking, and tasting each other. Being in his arms. Moaning. Screaming. Falling asleep together when we were both exhausted and could do no more. Until I woke up in his arms in the morning and it was my turn to set the rules. The Rules After many years of being in the various "scenes" and having been thru more than 500 one night stands and dozens of "relationships" , some shared some monogamous, and 5 engagements I final came up with a set of rules. Now the before was not said as a boast or brag but more as a resume for me writing these rules. I have seen the effects of dating a psycho ( and felt them) as well as the horrible side effects of virgins have the ultimate orgasmic rush. If only all dating, exploring, and adventures people knew them I think we would all be better off. THE RULES One Night Stands Definition: Sex 1 time with a person that will probably never be repeated 1. A condom is required to be used. 2. No phone calls unless previously agree d upon by both parties. 3. No empty promises. (i. e. "I'll call you") without the intent of following through. 4. Both parties must arrive and leave the rendezvous point with independent transportation. 5. Public acknowledgement of a ONS is punishable by death. 6. No comparing of partners. 7. Sexual turn-ons must be verbalized before commencing. 8. Orgasms must be achieved by both parties. (multiple orgasms are acceptable. ) 9. Personal questions are discourage and are not required to be answered. 10. Endangerment of a partner is punishable by death. 11. Always carry a toothbrush and towel. 12. Any and all personal items left behind will be confiscated and destroyed. 13. No physical evidence i. e. hickeys, scratches, etc. 14. No coercion allowed... must be mutually consenting. 15. Romance will not be tolerated. 16. Anything said in the heat of passion is null and void. 17. Leaving immediately after sex is permissible and encouraged. 18. Ignorance of the rules shall not be considered an excuse. A ONS shall not be limited to one period of darkness but rather a short period of time i. e. a weekend. Anything longer shall be governed by the rules of recreational sex. Recreational Sex Definition: Sex more than 1 time for the mutual satisfaction of both parties. N o emotional commitments allowed. 1. Do not become infatuated. 2. Use of the "L","M","B",or "G" words is prohibited. 3. A true friendship must be established. 4. An occasional ONS is required. (see ON S rules) 5. Honesty about current/previous sexual frolics is required. 6. Any head games must be agreed to by both parties and the rules set down before commencement. 7. Public displays of affection are strictly prohibited. 8. Jealousy is strictly prohibited. 9. All conversations with a partner are confidential. 10. No subject shall be taboo for conversation. 11. All questions shall be answered honestly. 12. Chivalry is permissible and encourage d but is not to be confused with romance. 13. All appearances of a normal nonsexual relationship must be maintained. 14. Insensitivity to a partners feelings is punishable by death. 15. Extensive teasing is not permissible unless agreed upon by both parties. 16. The frequency of contact both sexual and nonsexual must be agreed to by both parties. 17. All agreements do not need to be verb al, however if there are any questions a bout a nonverbal agreement the question must be verbalized immediately. 18. All rules of a normal friendship apply. 19. Every reasonable effort must be made to satisfy your partner. 20. Fixing up partners is permissible. The prospective date must be familiar and agree with the rules. 21. No Virgins 22. No fake orgasms will be permitted. 23. No comparing partners. 24. No physical evidence i. e. hickeys, scratches, etc. 25. Anything said in the heat of passion is null and void. 26. If you have sex with the friend of a recreational partner both parties must b e notified. *A married partners identity shall not b e revealed unless he/she consents. ** Married shall constitute any normally monogamous relationship. A person is allowed only one monogamous relationship. 27. If a partner sense a growing emotional tie in either themselves or the partner the situation must be discussed immediately. * A chilling out period is recommended but shall not end the relationship. The length of the chilling out period must be agreed on by both parties. 28. Both parties must agree on the rules before having sex after a major interruption. * If both parties do not agree on the rules the sex will be considered a ONS and the rules governing ONS will be enforced. Any violations of the rules must be brought to the attention of the partner immediately. If you disagree with any or even all of the above, or if you have any comments I am more than willing to listen and possibly even add them to the list. Feel free to leave me a comment or e mail me. The Rules Author's note This story is a re-edited version of a story of mine which I cannot post on this website. This story takes place during season 6 when Buffy is over 18. *** Spike sighed and change the channel again. He really needed to steal cable or something. He couldn't sleep and daytime TV was failing him. Getting up he was about to take another look at what he had in his fridge when he sensed something. Power. Coming towards him at an alarming rate. It was not unusual for Spike to have visitors, the only question was were they friend or foe. Well, Spike didn't really have any friends so it was more a question of whether whoever was coming was coming to kill him or not. The door to his crypt practically flew off its hinges as sunlight filled his home, followed closely by Buffy the vampire slayer. This didn't exactly narrow down the whole 'was he about to be killed' question. There was a time that question would have been answered automatically and Spike would have been getting ready for the fight of his life, but that was a long time ago. It was only a few years but it felt like a lifetime. Not even stopping to close his door the slayer headed straight for him, a look in her eye which meant one of two things, either she was about to punch him or... Grabbing him Buffy violently kissed him, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. Are good, the second thing. And as it turned out, the first thing too. Buffy knocked Spike down so he landed on one of the stone coffins scattered around his crypt. Wasting no time she tore off his belt buckle and pulled down his pants, exposing his already semi-erect cock. It didn't remain semi for long. Obviously not in the mood for foreplay Buffy took Spike's cock in between her lips and swallowed the entire thing with ease. Things became slightly more difficult as he increased in size, slowly expanding to his full 10 inches but Buffy had deep throated him before so she knew what she was doing. There was a time where the idea of giving a blow job disgusted Buffy. Angel never asked, Parker had tried and failed but ultimately she had ended up doing it for Riley, but only after she got sick of him asking her about it. She had ended up being so grossed out about it that she had barely talk to him for almost a whole week, and they didn't have any type of sex again for almost a month. Buffy had just never understood the appeal of giving a blow job. Why should she wrap her lips around some guys dick? She didn't know where it had been. It wasn't like Riley or Parker or even Angel had given her much, if any, head so why should she? Plus cock sucking could lead to a mouthful of cum, and what kind of slut swallowed cum? As it turned out Buffy. She was the kind of slut who swallowed cum. Hell, she practically craved the stuff now, although she'd never admit it out loud. Sucking Spike off had just meant to be another one of those kinky things that she did with him. She hadn't meant to develop a taste for it but she had, quite literally. Nowadays Buffy love to suck cock, to feel a piece of men meat grow hard within her mouth as she slobbered all over it, feel it prepare itself to shoot a nice gooey load down her throat. Spike's cock didn't pulsate what with him being dead and all, but Buffy would always feel something she couldn't quite describe happen just before the vampire came. It was like a little spark of energy letting her know she was about to get a mouthful of her former nemesis's cold seaman injected directly into her stomach. Today however she wasn't after Spike's cum. She had things to do, important things, and as much as she would have liked to have a nice long sex session with the blonde vampire Buffy just didn't have the time. So Spike would have to settle for a quick blow job before moving on. However just because it had to be quick didn't mean it had to be sloppy. Buffy would accept nothing less than a good hard fucking and that was exactly what she was going to get, even if it killed Spike... or perhaps especially if it killed Spike... no... he wasn't much use to her dead. Although she might consider it if he didn't do his job properly. Wanting to make sure that the vampire was good and ready to do his job Buffy relaxed her throat muscles to allow Spike's shaft to slide down her gullet as she bobbed her head up and down, sucking hungrily on his cold poll, covering it with her saliva, preparing it for what was to come. Spike moaned as the slayer's soft mouth caressed his undead man meat, her tongue expertly working the underside as it slid down her throat. The blonde vampire had been with many, many good cock suckers but none of them could even compare to little Miss Goody two shoes Buffy Summers. Spike would have never have guessed when he met the tight assed vampire slayer that she would be so good at giving head, then again he had helped her tight ass loosen up a lot lately so maybe it was only natural. This was not the first time Buffy had greeted Spike this way, and despite being warned time and time again Spike couldn't stop himself from grinning down at his former nemesis giving him head and commenting, "Hello to you to slayer." Buffy looked up at him without removing her mouth from his cock, her eyes narrowing as she bit down gently on his sensitive flesh, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to cause him a little pain. It was a warning, the warning Spike had been expecting. No talking. Those were the rules. Deciding it was probably best at this point to keep his mouth shut Spike lay back and allowed Buffy to do her work, sucking him until he was fully erect and ready to ride. Removing her mouth from Spike's cock Buffy stood up and quickly removed all of her clothing before mounting the vampire. After all she wouldn't want to get any of her nice things ripped would she? Avoiding looking down at the no doubt smug look on Spike's face Buffy shoved two fingers inside herself, making sure she was properly lubricated and stretched before grabbing his dick and lining it up with her wet pussy. The blonde slayer slowly lowered herself down upon that 10 inch piece of undead man meat, impaling herself on her former rival's poll until she had it inside her to the balls. Buffy and Spike let out a joint moan as her warm pussy fully engulfed his cold cock. Spike was amazed that even after all the pounding he had given her lately Buffy was still as tight as ever. His long time rival Angel and that ponce Riley obviously had done a lousy job of stretching the slayer out. In Angel's case he had only had the chance to be with Buffy once, the poor sod, but what was Riley's excuse? He must have either been really small or really lousy or possibly even both. Whatever the reason Spike hoped that one day he would get the chance to rub both of their faces in it, preferably without losing the chance to nail the slayer whenever he wanted. Well, whenever she wanted. The blonde vampire lost his train of thought when the blonde slayer began bouncing up and down on his poll, slowly at first but soon gaining speed. Buffy had come to him when she was horny before but for some reason she seemed extra horny tonight. As if to emphasise this point Buffy tore off his shirt and began to rake his skin. He was just glad he hadn't been wearing his coat. Ripping those easily replaceable black T-shirts he wore was one thing, ripping his long trenchcoat which was his pride and joy was a completely different thing. It wasn't like he could return the favour. She could rip his clothes but he couldn't rip hers. Those were the rules. Her fingernails scratched at his chest, drawing blood. He couldn't do that to her either. She could draw blood, he could not. Those were the rules. As she continued to ride him hard and scratch at his skin Buffy bent down and bit into Spike's neck, once again drawing blood but not drinking any which was kind of a waste. He and Dru used to do this all the time and he always considered it an incredible rush. But he couldn't bite Buffy. Those were the rules. Spike hated the rules. Now his chip didn't work on Buffy he could bite her, and had tried to convince her to let him. Not enough to kill her or anything, he couldn't bear the thought of that, but the blood of a slayer was intoxicating and an incredible aphrodisiac. In fact the taste alone could give him a hard on for hours. Sick of having to suffer from the rules Spike flipped them so Buffy was now on her back and he was pounding into her. As he did this he grabbed her arms and held them over her head, kissing her passionately. Buffy kissed him back, but seemed much more interested in using her teeth to draw blood from his lips than to massage his tongue with her own. Even Drusilla hadn't been this much of an animal. Buffy allowed Spike to pound into her in this position for a while, wrapping her legs around him as she clamped her pussy muscles down on his rod, increasing the pleasure for the both of them, all the while her fingernails raking the skin of his newly exposed back, her teeth biting at him as they kissed. Buffy didn't come to Spike just to scratch an itch. She came because it gave her the chance to punish him for wanting her and at the same time she was trying to get him to punish her for wanting him. Or at least that's how she used to think. Now she was beginning to question whether or not she should be punishing herself for doing something which felt so good. If it fell right how could it be wrong? It wasn't like her life outside the bedroom was so great so why should she feel guilty about enjoying herself? If she could find pleasure in this world then why shouldn't she enjoy it in whatever form it came in? And besides, deep down Buffy knew there was something dark inside her and she needed an outlet for that darkness or it might consume her. When he had visited Sunnydale Count Dracula had told Buffy that her power was rooted in darkness, and although she had tried to deny it at the time now she believed he was right. There was darkness inside her, darkness which could be used to her advantage. She could learn to channel it, not just when she was slaying, but in her regular life and most importantly her sex life. She could use Spike as a puppet, something which she could take out the worst of her dark desires on, the desire to cause pain, to damage, to destroy so she wouldn't harm the people she loved. Although it did seem a little... easy. This was Spike, the big bad, the killer of slayers, and she was using him with ease. He wasn't even putting up a fight. Rather disappointing actually. Of course Spike was not allowed to fight back. Those were the rules. But Buffy loved it when Spike broke the rules. She would just never let him know that she loved it when he broke the rules. He didn't do it very often, but when he did she always hurt him more, in all the right places, as he would say, and Buffy wanted to hurt him. Perhaps if she hurt him enough he would rebel. That might be fun. Partly to see if she could get more of a reaction out of him, and partly because she wanted to be on top again, Buffy elbowed Spike in the face and rolled them so she would be on top again however she misjudged how much room they had and they fell to the floor. Quickly recovering Buffy started to lift herself up and down on the vampire's fuck stick. When she had fallen she had cracked her knees and the lower part of her legs against the concrete floor. Pain was shooting through her body but at the same time pleasure was also shooting through her and it provided her with an incredible rush which only encouraged her to power through the pain, using her injured knees to impale herself harder on the cold cock, riding her former foe like a mechanical bull. When Spike had landed on his back, his head had snapped against the floor with a force which would have knocked out an ordinary man. Luckily for Spike being a vampire had its perks like indurance, something he needed a lot of with Buffy. Speaking of the slayer she had just continued on bouncing on him, either not aware or not caring about his little bump on the head. Annoyed at this Spike lunged forward, pushing Buffy forward as if to lay her on her back on the floor, but at the last moment grabbing a firm hold of her ass, lifting her up and carrying her over to the wall. Buffy gasped as her back hit the wall for a number of reasons. One was because of the force and the fact that she hit her head on the wall almost as hard as Spike had hit his head on the floor before. The other reason was because as they had been approaching the wall Spike had removed one hand from her ass, spat on a finger and upon impact had shoved that finger in her unprepared ass hole. The blonde slayer considered doing what she had done the first time Spike had tried this and punch the vampire in his smug face, but ultimately decided against it. Truth be told she loved the feeling of Spike's fingers fucking her ass as he fucked her pussy with his hard undead cock. Plus she was in a rather kinky mood so she decided to welcome the anal invasion. In fact as soon as her ass hole relaxed around the finger inside it she found herself craving more. Focusing on him she could see him smiling at her, this knowing look on his face that told her that he knew she liked it. This was the part were they stared at each other for a while until Spike eventually added another finger but Buffy was horny and in no mood to wait. "More." came her simple command. Spike was a little surprised at this. Buffy rarely talked during their sex sessions, and certainly never to ask him for more. Her eyes and body were normally the ones asking him for more and he found it an incredible turn on to hear it from her lips for once. Deciding to obey the request Spike removed his finger from Buffy's ass just long enough to spit on his fingers again before re-entering the slayer's back passage, this time with two fingers, never slowing the pace of his thrusting. Buffy moaned in encouragement, as she rode the vampire's cock and fingers. Spike increased the pace, shoving Buffy back against the wall as he fucked the slayer harder in both her holes, her legs wrapped round him like a vice. "More." Buffy growled, still not quite satisfied with what she was getting. Growling with a mixture of lust, frustration and annoyance Spike lifted Buffy up and carried her to the stone coffin where this whole thing started. Once there he forced the slayer's legs from around him, removed himself from her, turned her around, bent her over the coffin and spat on her ass hole before pressing his cock to it. If the slayer wanted more he would give her more. Buffy grunted and gritted her teeth as Spike's 10 inch undead cock tore through her ass hole and began to force its way through her bowels. She considered knocking him off, after all this wasn't the plan, but Buffy found that all the attention her back door had already received had only made her horny for a little butt fun so she did her best to relax her anal muscles to allow Spike's shaft complete back stage access. For Buffy the annoying thing about anal was that after each butt fucking she received her slayer healing would kick in and heal her misused ass hole until she was virgin tight again. So every time Spike fucked her in the ass it would hurt just as much as the first time. The only consolation was that now she knew what to expect, and how to relax so it wouldn't hurt so much. Of course she didn't like to relax to much. She liked a little pain with her pleasure, after all that was why she was here in the first place. As always it was a struggle for Spike to get himself all the way into the slayer's unbelievably tight ass hole but as always it was well worth the effort when he was finally balls deep. Dru hadn't been a anal virgin when he had met her, Angelus had taken care of that apparently, but his dark goddess had loved anything kinky which of course included anal sex. She had taught him well and he had always enjoyed their time together but he had developed something of a taste for anal virgins. He never cheated on Drusilla but it was not uncommon for them to take a third person into their bed with them. It was uncommon for that third person to walk out alive but Spike like to think that at the very least there was no better way to leave this world than in the middle of an orgasm. He hoped one day to go out fucking and/or fighting himself, then again with Buffy around maybe he should be careful what he wished for. Vampires had supernatural healing abilities however for some reason these abilities didn't transfer to the bedroomed apartment. Perhaps it was because vampires were expected to be sexually deviant but for whatever reason Dru's ass had been reasonably tight considering but it couldn't even compare to Buffy's. The slayer's forever tight back side was just another reason Spike truly believed Buffy was the perfect woman for him. Spike's mind was pulled from its Buffy worship as his balls came to rest against the tight ring of the slayer's ass hole, announcing he had been able to bury his entire 10 inches into Buffy's back door. He let out a long moan, which the slayer joined him in. He waited a few moments for her ass hole to relax around his shaft before slowly sliding himself out only to quickly reassert himself moments later and then repeat the process, gently beginning to sodomise the thing that vampires feared most. Thinking that always got Spike going. He had always prided himself on being fearless, or at least on having a reputation of being fearless. In truth the only thing Spike truly feared was the suffering and/or death of the one/once he loved. Spike had loved Drusilla, and now he loved Buffy, and to a lesser extent her sister Dawn. Anyway apart from the suffering and/or death of Buffy or Dawn the blonde vampire feared nothing, and while he feared nothing the one thing he's fellow vampires feared more than anything else was bent over taking it in the ass for him. Slayers, the things vampires told horror stories to each other about, and he had killed two of them, and fucked one up the ass. He had been Spike the slayer killer and now he was Spike the slayer killer/the slayer butt fucker. While Spike was revelling in his accomplishments Buffy was becoming impatient. She came here for a hard brutal fucking, not this soft and gentle crap. If that was what she wanted she'd find some nice normal guy. But Buffy didn't want a nice normal guy. She had tried to tell herself that was what she wanted before but that just wasn't true. Buffy didn't want normal because she didn't feel normal. She had never really felt normal but nowadays she barely felt human so normal was out of the question. And Spike, he wasn't normal. It was one of the many things that she would never admit to herself before that she liked about him. Another reason was that he was never gentle, at least not for long. He had tried before and he was trying again but ultimately he would give her what she wanted, what she needed. She didn't come to Spike for a gentle fucking, she came to him for a hard pounding and she was determined to get it. "Harder." Buffy said, still using one word commands. "Harder slayer, are you sure about that?" Spike said with a grin, "Aren't you worried I might hurt you?" "You could never hurt me Spike," Buffy said, wanting to taunt him, "You're not strong enough to do that." "I wouldn't be so sure about that slayer," Spike said, his pride actually a little hurt by that statement, "I could still surprise you, you know." "I doubt it," Buffy said, "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be not talking. Those are the rules aren't they?" "Perhaps, but I'm kind of getting sick of the rules." Spike said, grinning again, "How about you?" The Rules Buffy thought long and hard about this before responding. "... I'm sick of following rules... but I'm not sick of people following mine. As a matter of fact I think it's time I started making some new rules around here... starting with you..." Buffy said, reaching back and twisting one of Spike's nipples "Doing as I say and fucking my ass harder damn you!" Spike let out a cry of pain. Buffy's nails were digging into his flesh as she twisted his nipple. Wanting the pain in his nipple to cease Spike grabbed a firm hold of Buffy's hips and began to pound himself in and out of her stretched shit hole, delighting as the slayer let go of his nipple and grabbed onto the stone coffin with both hands for support. The blonde vampire knew that the slayer's ass hole hadn't completely relaxed around his shaft yet and by pounding her pooper so soon was actually causing Buffy just as much if not more pain than pleasure at this point but he didn't really care. He liked a little pain with his pleasure and he knew Buffy was the same way. Besides it wouldn't take long for her rear hole to adjust and then she would be having as much fun as he was, and oh he was having fun stuffing the slayer's ass hole. The vampire was right, Buffy's butt hole soon loosened up around Spike's shaft to the point where the slayer was thrusting herself backwards against her former nemesis in an attempt to move that magnificent rod even faster through her bowels, massage in sensitive areas inside herself which she hadn't known about until she started this love affair. Well, maybe love affair was a poor choice of words. Sex affair. An affair of sex. An affair of nasty, dirty, sick, disgusting, twisted, wrong sex. An affair of nasty, dirty, sick, disgusting, twisted, wrong sex which Buffy just couldn't get enough of. Buffy like to think of this... whatever this was as wrong but the truth was she was rather tired of classifying something that felt so good as wrong. After all it wasn't like she was physically hurting anybody, except maybe herself... and Spike of course. Although the most damage at the moment seemed to be inflicted on the stone coffin which was cracking slightly under the weight of the two supernatural warriors as they engaged in their forbidden union. It probably didn't help matters that Buffy was banging her fists on the stone as the creature she had once fought against with such ferocity happily buggered her over the coffin. Whether to try and prevent any further damage to his furniture or simply to try and gain some kind of upper hand Spike grabbed hold of Buffy's hands and forced them down upon the stone surface of the coffin. As he did this he lent over her and began to kiss her neck softly, providing an interesting contrast between the affection he showed her neck and the disregard he showed to the well-being of her ass. As with everything they did Buffy knew she could stop Spike if she really wanted too. She could knock him off, scream and yell at him, storm out, stop this. But she didn't want too. This fell too good. Far too good. Buffy's fingers dug into the cold stone of the coffin as her orgasm approached. Her clit had been bashing roughly against the coffin with every thrust of Spike's cock. With the combination of the stimulation that little bundle of nerves was receiving and the now very large sparks of pleasure coming from the inside of her ass hole it was a wonder it took the slayer as long as it did to cum. When it finally happened she let out a muffled cry, before realising she no longer cared if anyone heard her or not and allowed a long deafening scream to escape her throat as her body shook violently in climax. In all their time together the slayer had never let out such a pleasure filled cry, and it was truly music to Spike's ears. As Buffy came her ass hole clamped down on the vampire's cock like a vice and that combined with the slayer's almost deafening cries of pleasure sent Spike over the edge and gripping firmly to her hands he came, spurting his undead seed deep into Buffy's bowels. Spike continued to plunder Buffy's pooper as his cum filled her ass, wanting to get as much pleasure out of her as possible before inevitably he began to shrink inside her back door. Once Buffy was sure all of his cum was securely buried inside her rectum she gave him a strong back elbow which knocked him backwards, his shrunken dick sliding out of her stretched ass hole as he fell to the ground. Buffy clenched her sphincter, slowly shutting her now once gaping butt hole, trapping Spike's sperm inside her. Buffy smiled. She had got what she came for. A good fucking. Now all she had to do was get out of here without having to talk too much to the vampire. The slayer slowly got up and somewhat unsteadily made her way to wear she had left her clothes lying on the floor. Spike sat up and watched Buffy as she dressed. His clothes were torn and he was bleeding and sore. He swore he was normally in better shape after fighting Buffy. "Is that it?" Spike asked. "I've got to patrol." Buffy said, sliding back into her pants. "So you don't want to stay and spoon a bit then?" the vampire said smiling. Buffy scowled at him, "You know if you tell anyone about this." "You'll kill me, I know, I know." Spike sighed, "Don't worry slayer, I know the rules." "And don't you forget them." Buffy said, as she left the vampire's crypt. The Rules There is indeed an institute of higher education which served as a partial model for Locksmith University, as some readers may be able to guess. Nevertheless, there is precious little light and less truth about the university in this story. I must confess I have callously played with details of life in its engineering school for my own narrative purposes. And, of course, the real university's professors of divinity are all models of wise decorum and restraint. Most heinously, I have even altered the football schedule. The game against the arrogant bastards never takes place before Halloween. While universities do exist and, to be sure, they are all well-stocked with rules and committees, this story is otherwise pure fantasy, written chiefly for my own pleasure. I hope some of you may share that pleasure. ____________________ I do know the rules. In fact, I helped write them. It started, I suppose, at dinner at the Dean's house. Now, you need to know that the Dr. Richard Evans, Dean of Engineering of Locksmith University, is not just my boss; he's the best friend I have in the world and his wife, Maggie, is a sweetheart. She was the also the dearest, closest friend of my sweet wife Robin and sat with me, holding my hand, while poor Robin was dying of ovarian cancer. Maggie is a big woman, blonde, busty and hearty. She's a second Mom to all the junior professors and grad students, particularly the female ones, and has a heart the size of New England. They all consult her about their love lives and everything else you can imagine. I suppose that's why Maggie started nagging me about trying dating again, a year or so after Robin died. She's simply fallen into the habit of giving advice to the lovelorn and she thinks I qualify. Women past fifty often experience a sudden activation of the matchmaking gene, I think, and they just can't leave a single man alone, even as lousy a prospect as me. "Will," she kept on saying, "You're the kind of man who needs a woman and, believe me, somewhere out there, a woman needs you." That's probably true but I had that woman for more than twenty five years and now she's gone. I'm not the dating type and there's no way I could ever replace my heart's desire after she was taken away from me. About six months ago Maggie seemed to give up on her project to get me dating again. I guess I'm her one failure. But back to dinner at the Dean's: Richard and Maggie had invited my graduate research assistant, Jenny Chen, and me to drop by for a late meal after we were done at the lab. Nothing fancy, just pizza, Caesar salad and beer, nothing we hadn't done dozens of time before. It was going to be a completely relaxed evening, I thought, with nothing more demanding on the conversational plate than the Bruins' chances in the playoffs this year. Did they have the scoring to make a run at the Cup? Who should start in goal? That would be as deep as it would get, I thought. Wrong. Richard loves hockey - he was all conference defenseman at Nassau University in his day - and though it was not a game day, he was, in fact, wearing his old black and orange letterman's sweater. I gave him the gears as usual, "Great colors! Reminds me of Halloween! Tell me: is it true that 'Trick or Treat' is the Nassau Tabbycats' school cheer?" I asked. I had played lacrosse for Locksmith, or more accurately sat on the bench for Locksmith, and it's the sworn duty of every Locksmith Blue to run down Nassau. There's nothing better than a cold beer and an old joke between warm friends, but, for once, he didn't give it back to me. He frowned, looked at me over his half moon reading glasses, and said, "Will, I need you to sit as my substitute and representative on the University Sexual Harassment Policy Review committee." I groaned aloud. "Rich, why me? You know I'm out of here for Palo Alto for good next January and these committees take years to report." "Not this one. The President is completely pissed off by those media reports of harassment of female students at Locksmith and he wants a review of the rules fast... to show sensitivity to women's concerns and to demonstrate decisive leadership." He lowered his voice to a mock media baritone and made quotation marks in the air on "decisive leadership." Rich isn't a fan of the president. "But..." "I know you're gone next year but people respect you and you know very well that I can't serve on this thing." "Why not?" Rich looked disgusted, "Because of Maggie, of course. People still remember how we got together." It was well before my time but I did know the story. Rich had been a brand new Assistant Professor while Maggie was a graduate student in Engineering. They met when he was appointed by the then Dean to serve on her supervisory committee as a replacement for an older professor who had suffered a heart attack. Even though he was not the Director of her dissertation and had never even taught her during her course work, this would be a definite No-No these days. But Maggie had set her sights on him and the simple truth is that she is a force of nature. He had about as much chance as a beefsteak dropped in the middle a pack of wolves, not that anyone would ever hear him complain. He was then and remains now one happy piece of beefsteak. They were married a year later. It had always been one of your textbook happy marriages but nowadays the way they got together would be considered inappropriate behaviour and even sexual harassment... inequality of power or something like that. Maggie stirred in her chair. "Will, I know there is sexual harassment of female students and staff here. Who do you think hears about it first?" That was definitely a rhetorical question as far as the Engineering school goes. The girls, young women, I mean, all head for Maggie. Everyone knows that she has the ear of the Dean... and every other body part as well. The end result is that though engineering is one of the increasingly scarce areas left in higher education where females are still a minority, nowadays there isn't much trouble of that sort here at Locksmith. Nobody wants to get on the wrong side of Maggie. "But in the end, you have to make room for love also. Sometimes young women fall in love with kind, intelligent, strong men in their field, for all the right reasons." Maggie looked over at Richard and you could read a lifetime's worth of mutual love and respect in her eyes. I knew exactly what she meant and I could tell that Jenny agreed. She was nodding her head also. "So we are hoping for a voice of reason on the committee, someone who will actually remember human beings are involved," said Richard "You!" chimed in Maggie. I didn't stand a chance. Saying "No" to the Dean is one thing but there's no way in the world I can deny Maggie anything. "Let me think about it overnight," I temporized. They nodded, contented. They knew they had me. Rich and Maggie aren't friends, when you come right down to it; they're family. Put it this way: my daughter Amy has a full house of aunts to choose from, three on my side and two on her mother's, and any one of them would have been thrilled to be replacement Mother on Amy's wedding day, last spring. But Amy insisted on being dressed at Maggie's house and having the pre-wedding photos in their garden. A widower father can do many things for his daughter and Lord knows I have always tried my best, but he surely isn't needed when she is preparing for her wedding ceremony. That's a female thing... exclusively. It ought to be a mother and daughter thing, but that possibility had been laid to rest three years before. When a man loses the wife he loves, it isn't just the sex or even the companionship that is buried with her; it is all those possibilities that are lost, all the memories to be created and then savored together over the years. Gone, all gone, like my sweet Robin. I couldn't be more grateful to Maggie for taking over on the day. I had been planning to drive Amy and the bridesmaids over to her house to dress but she wouldn't have it. "Remember Rich on our Katie's wedding day? Total basket case! He might as well have been blind the way he teared up at the least little thing. He almost drove into a lamppost on Gagetown Rd. Men! Just can't control their emotions!" But she squeezed Rich's hand and gazed fondly into his eyes even as she spoke. I thought about my own probability of weeping factor, or PWF as we engineers like to put it, and realized she was almost certainly right. It would do nobody any good if I drove into a lamppost on my Amy's wedding day. "I'll take care of all that," she said. So Maggie sent Jenny over to collect Amy when it was time. They did trust me to carry my daughter's suitcases to the car and also the precious gown, still wrapped in blue paper to keep it from yellowing with age, the gown her mother had worn almost thirty years ago. Sure enough, my eyes filled for the first of many times that day, as I laid the gown gently across the back seat of the Dean's old Lincoln. Jenny squeezed my upper arm and my little girl kissed me good bye. I waved them on their way and, temporarily blinded, just as predicted, stumbled back into the house to carry out my own preparations. Though I did manage to miss the lamppost. More than two hours later, Jenny arrived back at my house to pick me up when it was time for the photos. She adjusted my tie, patted my arm, smiled and said, "You're almost as good looking as your daughter." That was an exaggeration of course -- nobody could match Amy on that day - but people are so kind! I remember that I stepped around the corner of the Dean's house, laid one hand on the garden gate and caught sight of Amy seated in her mother's old wedding gown on the stone bench under the vine laden arbor. Maggie was adjusting the bridal veil and Amy was dreamily staring off in the distance, lost in thought, whether of her late mother or her beloved or both, I do not know. But then, I could not tell if I were thinking more of the young woman who had first worn that gown for me or of the little girl whose life we had created together, now a woman of surpassing grace. If I could not sort out my own thoughts; I do not know why I should suppose that Amy's thoughts were any less complex, nor why I should be able to decipher them. I stopped, stood dead still, gazed at her, still unaware of my presence as she was. My eyes filled again. I do not know how long I stood there, blinking away the tears. Probably it was but a few seconds. A slender hand slipped two tissues into mine and I wiped my eyes. "It's time," said Jenny and, with gentle pressure on my arm, guided me forward to join my daughter. Amy picked a photo from that session to be specially framed for me and I treasure it. It is a candid shot of Maggie touching up the edge of the bride's lipstick while Jenny holds back the bridal veil. The love in their eyes is more than I can describe. Maggie can ask me for anything. After dinner, I dropped Jenny off at the Grad Pad and dawdled back to the farmhouse north of Oldport where Robin and I had made our home. For the longest time after she died, a part of me expected to hear her cheery voice crying out a greeting from the kitchen or the laundry when I unlocked the front door. But that expectation had faded, along with the sharpness of grief. I was alone. I didn't like it. Over a late night and solitary cup of hot chocolate, I thought about the Dean's request. My mind slipped back to the snafu on my last trip to Japan with Jenny. I'm actually a civil engineer - you know us, the people who design your roads and waterworks and sewers. Civil engineering is the bottom rung of the status ladder in the profession though that's terribly unfair. Civil engineers have probably saved more lives than all the doctors in history put together, just by providing clean water and safely flushing away your sewage. Locksmith doesn't even have a civil engineering speciality anymore. The Dean saved my position by putting me in materials science. Oh, and the fact I had tenure helped too. But it's one of the reasons, I'm heading out west next January. The other is that my particular speciality has to do with seismic safety, the development of construction techniques and materials that will help structures safely survive earthquakes. For some reason, they are more interested in that subject in California than in New England. Jenny's research particularly focuses on the safety of nuclear reactors during and after earthquakes. Talk about good timing. Though her family is from Taiwan, not Japan, she had researched the safety protocols and construction techniques of Japanese reactors. At her suggestion, we had published under both our names an article on potential problems with Japanese reactors which mentioned, among other things, the danger of tsunamis. The article had appeared just a few weeks before the terrible tsunami struck in northern Japan. We were in demand, big time, and it didn't hurt that she is a photogenic young woman. There is a newspaper photo of her from that trip to Japan wearing a lab coat, hard hat and goggles, bending over a set of blueprints, the angle of the shot showing just a hint of cleavage, almost geek soft porn, to be honest. Jenny's been with me a while, first as a Masters student, then a doctoral candidate and finally also as my research assistant. Telling her I was moving to California had been hard. "Don't worry, I assured her. "I negotiated a delayed departure. I won't take up the new position until January of the year after next. I'll be around to supervise your dissertation to completion." Jenny was obviously completely shocked, so shocked that she couldn't speak. I could understand that; losing a supervisor in the middle of writing a dissertation is a major league problem. But for one reason or another, it sometimes does happen to students and they mostly battle through it. Besides, what I told her was absolutely true. With normal progress -- and Jenny is way beyond normal in her ability, even by doctoral candidate standards -- she could complete and defend her dissertation before I left. Worst case, there's always telephone and email for consultations. But Jenny couldn't say a word. Actually, I was a little hurt. I knew this change would be a dislocation for her but I did expect some response, at least a pro forma "Congratulations!" The move made sense on so many levels, after all. Not only was Palo Alto a better place for seismic engineering but my daughter and her husband lived across the bay at what Rich persisted in calling Hippy U. And Rich and Maggie would be moving to the East Bay also to be near their Katie, once Rich retired in two years time. Jenny knows all that. "If you need academic advice about your options, you know you're always welcome to talk to the Dean." At last, Jenny drew a breath, turned back to her computer screen, paused for a minute and replied, "Thanks, I may do just that. I imagine that he can give me good advice... and Maggie, too." I don't know if Jenny talked to the Dean or not but that was six months earlier and everything seemed to have calmed down since then. What has heated up since then, however, is, well, yes, the Japanese reactor cores, but also the flow of data. That was both good news and bad news for Jenny. The good news was that both Jenny and I have been consulted by authorities all over the world on reactor safety. As a result, Jenny will be able to write her own ticket almost anywhere she wants, either in business or academia, when she finally does submit her dissertation. The bad news is that the chain reaction of new data will require a rewrite of substantial sections of her work. But I still think she can submit before I leave. So, considering all this, it was no surprise that we were asked to travel to Japan to review safety issues with Japan's remaining reactors. Oldport-New York-Tokyo is a looong journey. Well, the second leg is a long journey. Fortunately, our hosts had provided business class tickets. I pity the folks back in coach. I'm 6'2" and though reasonably slim I just don't fit in those economy seats. Add in the breadth of the Pacific Ocean and it's a pain, literally. Jenny is only about 5'5" but even she would be uncomfortable in economy. In fact, anybody who is too large to succeed as a jockey would be uncomfortable, in my opinion. I was pleased we were seated together in business class. We chatted for the first couple of hours, nothing exciting, just academic gossip and comfortable conversation between friends. The New York-Tokyo flight takes the Great Circle route amazingly far north, cutting across most of Canada. Jenny was very funny, looking down at the Great White North, telling me a story about a young Quebec engineer trying to pick her up at a conference in Montreal. "I was sitting on a bar stool in the faculty lounge. The young engineer was on one side of me and an older professor from McGill on the other. The young guy was a little drunk and he kept talking about 'my cool.' 'I admire your cool. Your cool is so beautiful. C'est si beau, comme tes jeunes seines.'" Jenny can do a very creditable French accent. I could hear some smarmy Frenchman cooing over "her cool." It bothered me to hear about it. Jenny continued, "Finally he all but shouted, 'You have the most beautiful cool in the world!' I told him that he was very kind but that I had never thought of myself as very cool. Just then, the professor on the other side plucked me by the elbow and whispered in my ear, 'He's not saying 'cool.' He's saying 'cul." That's French for, uhhh, 'rear end' or, uhhh 'arse.' "Pardon my French, as they say.' Then the professor did say something in French to the engineer. I don't know what it was but I am pretty sure I heard the word 'cul' in there and the young guy disappeared." Jenny paused, looked down at her lap, lifted her eyes to mine and said, "Sometimes older men are wonderful." I was glad my fellow old guy was there to help her but an utterly reprehensible thought for a man my age kept worming its way into my brain - The young guy was right; she does have a luscious "cool." But Jenny has a lot in the top storey as well. She reminded me that she had worked professionally before entering grad school and somewhere along the way, was assigned to a construction project in the Arctic. She had some very interesting and pointed observations about building on permafrost. We'll have to consider whether some of those techniques can be adapted for construction in seismically active zones. Travelling with her is wonderful in its own way but I keep getting reminded of the truth. She's smart and fun and sexy but unfortunately, she needs to find someone much younger than me. Somewhere over northern Manitoba, Jenny yawned very prettily and told me she needed a nap. Very shyly she informed me, "Sometimes I slip sideways when I fall asleep in an airplane. Would you be upset if that happened and I end up leaning on you?" "Of course not!" I assured her and raised the armrest between us. I wish I dared to invite her to lie down across the two seats and lay her head in my lap but I knew that would be inappropriate. Jenny raised her hands to her head to release the lustrous raven hair that she had tied, as she usually did, in a pony tail high on her head. As she did so, her tee shirt pulled tight over her small but shapely and very upright breasts. I stifled a sigh and looked for the airline magazine in the seat pocket in front of me. I needed something to distract me. Instead, I pulled out the vomit bag by mistake. I stared at it as if it were a really interesting vomit bag. If I didn't get control of myself, this was indeed going to be a long flight, I told myself. Concentrating on the bag, I repeated to myself, "In case of air sickness..." That seemed to do the trick. The Rules I started early in our married life praising my wife for following "the rules". I chose some of the rules so they would be easy to follow. She liked a clean house anyway so it was a rule that she had to clean it every day. She went to the gym anyway so it became a rule. She refused to let me go down on her unless she was freshly showered so it was a rule that she had to shower every night before bed. There were some rules she didn't particularly care for; she hated giving blowjobs and I had the idea I could train her to like it by making her obey the rule she kiss me good morning by kissing my cock – kind of like aversion therapy. I had some success; she'd started licking and sucking of her own accord. It was a rule that she sit on the floor by my feet at night while I watched the news; she would lay her head on my knee and I'd stroke her hair. In the beginning she'd laugh at the rules but when I said "you are such a good girl for following the rules," she would smile and kiss my cock with more enthusiasm or pull my hand from her hair to kiss it. As she came close to an orgasm I'd tell again what a good girl she is, subtly reinforcing the link in her brain between pleasure and following the rules. She was being trained. Slowly I added new rules or changed the old ones. Soon she was willingly kneeling in front of me to show respect when I came home from work and the morning kisses changed to blowjobs. "I've decided you need to learn to happily give me a blowjob, sweetie," I said. "You are a good girl for following the rules and today there is a new rule. You must learn to enjoy sucking on my dick." I would show her videos of women deep throating and obviously enjoying it. I'd give her assignments to find me internet porn videos of deep throating to show me when I got home from work. She needed to tell me why she liked the one she picked in particular. We quickly moved from me passively enjoying her cock licking to me fucking her face like a pussy. "You're such a good girl," I'd croon and she would allow my cock to slide deeper down the back of her throat. "Such a good girl," and I'd hold the back of her head so she couldn't move as I forced it a little further. She'd smile up at me when I pulled out to let her breathe. Using the same tactic I taught her to enjoy anal sex. "You are such a good girl," I'd say as she presented her ass to me. "Such a good Daddy's girl," I'd say as I pushed the head of my cock into her tight asshole. Her sharp intake of breath and gasp I knew meant a little pain but I reached around her & squeezed her nipple and reminded her that she was a good girl for following the rules. She'd nod and smile up at me. She reached between her legs and rubbed her clitoris as I inched further into her tight ass. "Push back onto my cock," I said. "That's a good girl" as she pressed her asshole back until I was in all the way. "You are such a good girl," I breathed as I pulled out and back in; slowly building up to a steady rhythm. I could feel myself getting close – so could she – she would complain sometimes that my cock grew even bigger just before I came and caused more pain but her desire to please me and follow the rules was stronger than her desire to complain. We came at the same time – me deep in her ass. Her with her fingers in her pussy. "Such a good girl!" I said as I stroked her back. Swallowing, however, is an ongoing battle. I think my method works well most of the time, but my wife seems to have a deep seated animosity toward swallowing my cum. I've never made it a rule, but I think now is the time. I've decided to tackle this differently. In addition to praising her for following the rules, I am going to tell her she has a choice, she can either swallow when I cum in her mouth or she can ask for a spanking – either way she still gets to be praised. "You're a good girl," I said as she sat by my feet, "You just have to choose which rule you will follow." I reached out and caressed her cheek. She didn't look happy but she wasn't arguing. I continued to caress her neck. "You are such a good girl for following the rules and following the rules makes me very happy," I smiled down at her. At bed time I didn't know if she would swallow or ask for a spanking. She came in from her shower with a towel around her and knelt at my feet. "Such a good girl," I sighed as she opened my robe and took me in her mouth. She looked a bit unhappy. She deep throated my cock, sticking her tongue out and licking my balls. I was so hard. I held her head and began to fuck her thinking I'd finally get to cum in her mouth and she would swallow. She pressed her hands against my thighs to get me to stop. I looked down and saw tears in the eyes. "I'm so sorry honey, I just can't swallow. I guess I have to ask you for a spanking," and she burst into tears. "You are such a good girl for asking and following the rules," I smiled down at her. "Don't worry, everything will be alright. You had a choice – and either way you're following the rules. You are such a good girl and you make me feel so good!" My cock was still very hard as I helped her lay on the bed. I had decided I would need to give her a good, hard spanking that she would remember to help her decide that swallowing was a better choice than getting a spanking. I knelt on the bed beside her and rubbed her ass. "Swack, swack swack, swack, swack, swack!" Hard spanks with my open hand in quick succession. "I'm so sorry honey," she cried. "Don't be sorry! You're a good girl for following the rules," I said. I told her to open her legs and reached to stroke her clitoris. "Such a good girl! But your spanking isn't over yet," I warned. Swack, swack, swack, swack, covering her cheeks and thighs. Swack swack swack swack. Hard enough my hand was stinging. "Please, no more, it hurts" she cried. Swack, swack, swack, swack. I stopped to admire her lovely round and now bright red ass and discovered I was still as horny as I was when she was kneeling before me with my cock down her throat. I reached between her legs again and discovered she was slick with desire. I circled her clitoris until she was moaning. "Such a good girl for following the rules." I picked up a hairbrush on the nightstand and used it instead of my hand. I hit her hard but not hard enough to bruise. She was still begging me to stop. I rubbed and caressed her ass until her crying calmed. "You are such a good girl for following the rules. You did nothing wrong. Next time you can choose whether you want to swallow or ask for a spanking again and either way you are a good girl." She looked up at me over her shoulder and smiled. "Thank you . . . Sir." I liked her spontaneous addition of the word Sir. I told her to present her ass to me and she quickly complied. I eased my now aching cock into her hot wet pussy and rocked back and forth. "Such a good girl," I said as I came deep inside her. I pulled out and turned her around. "Clean my cock," I said. "It's a new rule." I think she was so relieved to have the spanking over with she was happy to comply. When she was done I laid her on her stomach, spread her legs and played with her clitoris until she was at the edge of an orgasm three times before allowing her release. My cum seeping out of her pussy providing lubricant. "You're such a good girl," I crooned into her ear. She practically purred her happy response. I gave her a week before I again said she would have to choose between swallowing or a getting a spanking. "There are no wrong choices," I told her. "You're a good girl, such a good girl." And really I had enjoyed spanking her and seeing has ass turn red. I liked that it made her call me Sir and she very readily followed a new rule. It might take more spankings before she decides to swallow but I think I'll enjoy it either way! And when she does decide to swallow, I think I'll make occasional threesomes part of our sexual repertoire. And if she doesn't want to, she can always ask for a spanking! The Rules Are Simple The rules are simple. You score points for the different sexual acts you manage to have in one session. It's a game we've been playing ever since we turned 18. If you score, you share your exploits with those playing the game. The most important rule is you must be honest. If you lie or make up any details to make yourself look better, not only are you cheating yourself, but you're also disqualified from the game permanently. When we first started, it was based on how hot a girl was that you hooked up with. The group would all have to agree on her rating, between 1 & 10. As the game got older, and the deeds became more risqué, we started throwing in extra points for what you managed to pull off with the (un)lucky lady. Examples of some of these are: Sucking on her nipples - 1 point Fingering her vagina - 2 points Getting a blowjob - 3 points Licking her vagina - 3 points Having missionary intercourse - 4 points And as time went on and we started experimenting more: Sucking on toes, yours or hers - 2 points Fingering her butt - 3 points Performing a 69 - 4 points Doggy-style intercourse - 5 points Anal intercourse - 6 points There were certainly plenty more, and new ones added all the time, though it's no surprise what a bunch of hot-blooded males will get up to when in competition. The addition of the 'bonus game' became the greatest challenge however. On a Friday afternoon those playing for the weekend would decide on a bonus challenge to score an extra 10 points. These would be something along the lines of hooking up with 2 girls at one time, convincing a girl to do a strip tease for you, or having a girl bring herself to orgasm before you've even touched her,. The greatest amount of points scored so far was 42. Good old Geoffrey, the classic model male. Unfortunately for him he's temporarily out of the game until he sheds the baggage of his unbelievably hot girlfriend. Of course one of the other main rules for the game is it only counts if it's the first time doing 'anything' with that girl. If all you get the first time is a make out session with some fondling of her breasts over her top, then you're going to score fairly low. My name is Marcus. I currently hold the title for scoring the lowest in the game thus far - 2 points. I was drunk, and even with beer goggles she was hideous, and apparently had morals I seriously wasn't expecting. Needless to say, it's a title I am very proud of. Late into my 18th year my family moved to another city, taking me away from my group of friends I'd had since I was a kid, and eventually as others went about their early adult lives the game has been played less in a group of salivating males on the prowl and more as a catch up on a Sunday evening in the internet forum we frequent. Old players would leave, new ones would join, hearts would be broken, it was great fun. Just recently my parents let me know about a weekend trip they were to make back to my hometown to see my grandparents and asked if I wanted to come along to catch up with some of my old friends. Of course I was keen, even if it was an 8 hour drive to get there, and immediately started making plans to get as many of my buddies together as possible for my visit. The majority of us were now 19 or 20 and a lot of them had moved away to study, so I was only able to get 3 of them to guarantee it was all on. The week leading up to the trip went by slowly. I wasn't one of the suckers who went off to University and studied in something I would never use in the real world, nor was I stupid enough to throw away a good thing at home. That's right, at 19 I was still living at home with my parents and my older sister, and why not, they were pretty easy-going and expected very little of me. I did have to get a part-time job to keep them quiet about pulling my own weight financially, but with no rent, food or utility expenses that money usually just went on instruments and other music equipment for the band that I played in. My sister couldn't care less about catching up with old friends and decided to stay home, so it was just going to be me, my mother and my father. Finally, early on the Friday morning, we were in the car and beginning a long and soon to be very boring drive down the country. We each took turns with the driving, and surprisingly had a fairly good time on our small family road trip. My parents have always been laid back in life, never really stressing over too much. My father, Gordon, runs a successful building company that employs about 30 workers and contractors at any given time. My mother, Ashley, works part time as the office lady at a small dental clinic, and then also does the book keeping and accounts for my fathers company. Money has never been an issue in my family and has allowed us to enjoy the finer things in life without indulging too much, living modestly most of the time. Making good time, and having a few laughs along the way, we finally arrived earlier than expected. My grandparents, on my mother's side, were quick out the front door of their house to greet us as we pulled into the driveway. It'd been about a year since I'd seen them last, maybe about 6 months since my mother had last visited, so they were especially excited to see their only grandson after so long. "Ohhhhh, how you've grown up Marcus, all trim and well fit," squealed my grandmother, Irene, as she gave my torso a hard squeeze, somewhat imitating a hug. "Thanks Gran. Got to look good for the ladies, you know," I remarked back as I politely manoeuvred my way out of her grasp. "That's m'lad," laughed Sidney, my grandfather, as he shook my hand. "Gotta kep 'em gaggin' fo it." I just had to laugh, pretending that I understood what he had said, but remembered I had given up years ago trying to understand much of anything he said due to his thick English, Irish, Scottish, whatever accent, heck for all I knew he could just be mumbling and not have an accent at all. I helped Dad unload the car as Mum went inside with my grandparents. Once we had everything inside and up in our rooms I went downstairs and enjoyed an ice cold beer with the olds while they all chatted about the things old people chat about. "So Marcus, have you decided what you want to study at university yet?" enquired Gran, roping me into their conversation. "Of course he hasn't," Mum quickly remarked. "You're too cool for school aren't you, dear?" Ouch, the sarcasm is strong with this one. "Yeah Mum, too cool for school," I replied, and in my head I was, I really was. "Don't be so hard on him. I never went to University and look how amazing I am now," my father said, coming to my defence and at the same time bringing the conversation back to how brilliant and successful he was. "No schooling, no training, and now I run a successful building company that employs about 30 workers and contractors at any given time." "You're amazing Dad," I said. Mum just shook her head, looking at the two of us, the stern look on her face slightly giving way to the hint of a smile, only slightly mind you. The night moved along pleasantly. I drank more beer while absorbing myself in the chatter of the olds. Grandpa Sidney was the first to retire, being the oldest, and likely the drunkest, he stumbled up to bed fairly early. Dad wasn't far behind, doing most of the driving and probably having the second most to drink. He kissed the two ladies goodnight and wondered on up the stairs to the spare bedroom. Grandma was third to go on up, leaving Mum and me downstairs in front of the fire. I was pleasantly drinking, likely my fifth beer of the night. Mum sipped away at her Gin & Tonic. "So what are your plans for tomorrow?" Mum asked. "Just the usual, hanging with the boys and preying on beautiful unattainable girls while drinking silly amounts of alcohol," I replied truthfully. "Ohhhh right, the silly little game you boys play," Mum smiled. "What game?" I asked, surprised she knew about it. "Oh come off it Marcus, you tell me about it every time you're drunk around me. You boys try to get unsuspecting girls into bed and do naughty things to score points to out do each other," Mum smirked at me as she took another drink. I was dumfounded. What else have I confessed to her while under the influence? Does she know all of my deepest darkest desires, my antics, my crimes, my.... my porn site user details. I suddenly felt I needed to take back control, not only of this conversation, but also of my right, as a man, to rule. "Whatever," I defiantly replied. "Mmmhmm," she mmmhmmm'd. "You just make sure you're safe, I'm too young to be a grandmother. "I bet we always follow with this conversation too," I said, and standing, began to make my way towards the stairs to go to bed, then turned around. "Oh, and Mum?" "Yeah?" she answered. "You're not that young." I joked. "Fuck off!" she laughed as she threw a cushion my way. It naturally missed, a typical girl throw. The next morning I set about getting the lads together. We all met up for lunch at some pokey little cafe that was almost too camp for my liking, but they swore the Mocha Chai Lattes were "Just to die for." I had a beer. Luckily, so did they. It was just like old times, we laughed, we drank, we pee'd on the unisex toilet seat, which we then lifted and left up. Throughout the afternoon we went over the rules of the game again, but what we really wanted to sort was the bonus game. What was to be our challenge of the evening, to get the maximum points for the win? The ideas thrown around were the usual ideas, no surprises, until... "You need to pull a girl without asking her name, if she gives it or you already know it, you're not aloud to use it the whole night. See if you can get a girl into bed without ever using or asking her name," suggested Scott. I must admit, it could be a good challenge. To pull a girl without using her name, without even asking it, would a girl be that easy? The answer is no, well, for me anyway. We had gone out to one of the more popular bars in town, The Cheshire, and I had not even gotten to the point of where you would even ask a girl their name. The lads were having more luck, but even they were striking out. Nothing says one night stand more than not giving a shit about the name of the person you're hitting on, and the ladies were onto us. I ended up having a few more drinks than I should have and by 9pm I was stumbling around the dance floor like I was John Travolta - or so I thought. The funny thing with some girls, that really does surprise me, is they are sometimes attracted to funny guys - or guys that dance like they just don't care may appear more attractive. Whatever it was, I noticed quickly into my dashing routine, a hot little blonde number checking me out. I gave an extra accentuated shuffle into my swinging hips knowing that these were the moves of a mighty lover. The blonde laughed, looked away shyly, and then resumed watching the show of a potential mate flutter his stuff on the dance floor like a gracious swan. I knew I had her. I began to move closer, moving to the beat of the music, eventually coming within arms reach of my prey. "Hey there pretty girl," I made my move. "I noticed you notice me." "Marcus, you're such a dick," she laughed. I looked at her, confusion spread across my dumbfounded face. "It's me," she said. "Amber!" I must have still looked confused as I remained silent, questioning. "Your cousin!" she laughed again, slapping my shoulder. "Ohhhhhh,' I finally recognised Amber, my 18 year old cousin. My cousin, who was looking really good these days. "I can't believe you didn't recognise me. And I'm sure you were about to try getting off with me," Amber smiled cheekily at me. "Well, you are hot, any warm blooded male would have tried it on with you. Hell, I still might try it on with you," I said honestly. Amber laughed as she again slapped my shoulder. "Marcus, you're so funny. If only." Yeah, if only. We hung out for the rest of the night in a quiet corner of the club, catching up. We had some great laughs and she wouldn't drop that I had approached her to try picking her up. Throughout the night I observed, from afar, my friends chatting up girls and striking out several times. At least to them it would appear I had hooked up with a mega blonde hotty, going so far as to refrain from using her name the whole night, just in case things did turn out for the better. Even if she is my cousin. Tough luck, Amber eventually left me to rejoin with her friends, leaving me to feel a little stupid with nobody to talk to. Now sober, and without any of my mates in sight, I decided to call it a night and left the bar. I stopped briefly when I got outside to think of what direction my grandparent's new house was before taking out my mobile phone and calling my mother for a ride home. It was late. Luckily Mum was still awake and not too annoyed about having to come out and get me. The ride home was fairly quiet, just general chit chat about the cool evening air and how lovely it was to see the stars out for a change. She then perked up quickly and smirked ear to ear as she kept her eyes mostly on the road, but every so often taking a moment to glance my way. "So," she started, "How did you get on with that scoring game with your little friends?" I had to laugh, not only because my mother wanted to know if I had gotten any tonight, but also because the only person I remotely got close to hooking up with was her niece. "No scoring was accomplished tonight, only amazing dance moves and embarrassing myself by hitting on other family members," I replied. Mum obviously wasn't sure what I was talking about and eyed me quizzically. "Cousin Amber. I didn't recognise her at first, though she knew exactly who I was and thought it a great gag that I had approached her with the intent of hooking up," I smiled. Mum laughed. "Well Amber is certainly a hot little number. I don't blame you for trying," she giggled. "MUM!" I gasped aloud. "Completely inappropriate." "Oh come on, I'm not a corpse, I still have blood running through this old body," she said. "Besides, young girls these days really know how to accentuate their sexuality. It's hard not to notice." "Speaking of hard," I quickly remarked, then gently rubbed between my legs. "MARCUS!" It was Mums turned to be shocked. "Completely inappropriate." I had to laugh, even though it was inappropriate, she still took the easy going feel of the conversation to mimic exactly what I had said to her. Still, there was no way I was going to be beaten by my own mother in a battle of inappropriate-ness, and followed through with the charge. "Oh come on Mum, I'm a teenager, I've nothing but blood running through this young body," I grinned. "Besides, just the thought of you getting down with sexy young girls, well, that's seriously hot." Luckily she didn't seem to take offence, and just smiled, taking time out from the road to briefly regard me sitting next to her in the car. "My dear darling son, with pick up lines like that, it's a wonder you didn't have queues full of beautiful girls just begging to be with you, instead of getting your old mother to come pick you up." I crossed my arms high on my chest and slouched down into the car seat, "If you're gonna be an egg then I'm not having this pleasant conversation with you," I whined. "Suit yourself," Mum replied smiling. Within a couple of minutes we arrived at my grandparents house and we again made idol chit chat as we made our way inside, as if our inappropriate conversation had never occurred. Mum joined back into her card game with the other old people, while I said my goodnights and head off to bed. My day had been long and I surprisingly felt relieved I was able to just crash, without the awkward moments involved with hooking up with strangers and all the other rubbish that can go with........ I awoke the next morning to the incredible smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen, along with the sun shining through the windows I thought there were very few better ways to wake. We were meant to be heading off later this morning, so a nicely cooked breakfast would do wonders for the 8 hour drive home. I made my way downstairs to find only my grandmother was there and as I sat down at the table I was pleasantly greeted with a hot coffee put in front of me. "Good morning dear, how was your sleep?" she asked as she turned to continue cooking. I could see several dirty dishes stacked on the bench so everyone must have eaten and left to go somewhere. "Great sleep Gran. Where is everybody?" I asked before sipping on my coffee - delicious. "You want some bacon and eggs?" she asked, to which I nodded enthusiastically. "You're Father got a call earlier this morning, an accident occurred at one of the build sites, your Mum and Poppa are driving him to the airport as he needs to get home as soon as possible to take care of things." "Oh right - bugger. So it's just going to be me and Mum driving home today then?" I asked. "Looks like it honey," she replied. We continued talking for a few minutes until my breakfast was cooked and while I ate, Gran excused herself to go upstairs and freshen up. Breakfast was delicious and I downed it within a couple of minutes. With coffee in hand I thought I may act responsible for a change and go upstairs and pack, so we could at least leave on time. Mum and Grandpa Sidney got back just after 10:30. Even though we were packed, we ended up staying for another hour drinking coffee and saying goodbye, which was said several more times before we finally left just before 12pm, with one final farewell. Mum wanted to go shopping before we left the city as there was an arcade with several boutique stores that she wanted to look at. I decided I would wait in the car, even though I had no idea what a boutique store sold, at that moment I couldn't think of anything worse than finding out. After about thirty minutes, Mum text me asking me to put more money in the parking meter, I did this, putting enough for several hours and then text her back telling her I was going to get a drink and to keep in touch. I made my way to the closest bar and spent the next few hours drinking and playing pool with some of the other punters. Mum would message me every so often with an update but there was no rush on my part, I was having a great time. Eventually she let me know she was finished so before I left I bought a bottle of Canadian whiskey from the adjoining bottle-store and on slightly unsteady feet I walked back to the car. Looking in the back seat when I got there I could see Mum must have made a few trips back to the car as it was packed full of bags. Mum just smirked as I got into the passenger side seat, falling rather than sitting. "Looks like you used your time wisely," she said, referring to my obvious influence. "Likewise," I replied, motioning to her shopping spree. "Well, when Daddy's away a girl will play," she laughed, rather pleased with herself. "Besides, with one person down for the trip home we had the room." "Oh that is the worst example of reasoning I've ever heard," I laughed along with her. It was just before 5pm when we eventually hit the motorway heading out of the city. The trip without Dad was a bit more fun than it was had he been there. I was even occasionally successful in persuading Mum to have a shot of whiskey, though she was always hesitant and only succumbed as a last resort to stop my incessant begging. It was well dark and at around 8:30pm Mum suddenly pulled over to the side of the road, just short of a little motel, the cheap neon sign flickered ahead signalling a vacancy. "Those shots have gone straight to my head and I'm suddenly not feeling up to driving any further. Especially considering we're only halfway," Mum said, obviously a little frustrated and I suddenly felt a little guilty for drinking so much myself and being unable to take over the driving. The Rules Are Simple "Do you wanna see if the motel has a coffee machine or something, we can rest up for a bit 'til you feel up to driving," I suggested. "No," she replied. "I can't be bothered driving anymore tonight, let's just get a room. I haven't got work tomorrow, and you rarely work even on a good week." "Way to make me feel even worse, Mum," I whined. "Oh honey, stop your crying," she snapped, but quickly smiling again she started talking to me in a childish voice. "Mummy will have another shot of whiskey if baby will stop his whinging.' "Two," I challenged. "Let's just say three and I'll sleep better for it," she said. "Deal," I replied happily. Mum put the car into gear and we slowly pushed forward into the motel parking area just outside of a block of rooms. We walked together into the reception cabin and were greeted by a pretty girl about 25 years old and in my tipsy state I couldn't help staring at her chest for longer than was required. Mum smiled at me, and when I made eye contact with her I realised I was caught and sheepishly looked anywhere else. Predictably, it turned out there was only one room available, however it was a bigger room with a king bed and a single bed. Neither of us fussed about having to share a room, we stopped at the vending machine outside reception for some snacks then made our way to the room. It was spacious and clean and Mum fell down on the king bed stretching out on her back. "Can you be a darling and go get my overnight bag from the car, I desperately need a shower," she asked staring up at the ceiling. I did as was asked, grabbing my own bag as well as the whiskey from the front seat. Back in the room, Mum already had the shower heating up, steam flowing from the bathroom into the living area as she grabbed her bag from me and rummaged through it till she pulled out everything she needed. "Find something good on television for us to watch, I shouldn't be long," she said and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I turned on the television and spent some time flicking through the channels, it was the same old rubbish except that the porn channels were all available, no wonder the room was so expensive, I thought, turning the TV off. Another ten minutes later and Mum came out of the bathroom dressed in her pyjamas, surrounded by a wall of steam behind her as she made her way around the side of the larger bed, drying her medium length blonde hair with a large soft white towel. She looked at the TV not being on then at me questioningly. "There's only porn on," I replied. Mum laughed. "Anything good?" she asked. "Mum, it's Porn!" I answered. "It's all good." "Of course it is dear, along with the completely convenient situations and scenarios, completely believable and completely rational," Mum smirked. "Completely jealous or completely prudish, I'm unsure at this point," I countered. "I'll show you prudish," she hissed and then poked her tongue out at me. I had to laugh. "Hardcore Mum. Very hardcore." "Go get in the shower you brat. I'm going to call your father and let him know we're not going to make it home tonight," she said as she picked up her mobile from the bedside cabinet. The shower was hot, and I spent longer than usual absorbing the heat. Once out, I dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist. I had left my bag in the other room so had to go out in only my towel to get my pyjamas. Mum looked up as I entered the room but didn't acknowledge me as I retrieved some boxer shorts and pyjama bottoms pulling them both on under my towel. Removing the towel I then threw on a t-shirt and sat down on the end of the king size bed. "Your father managed to solve whatever the issue was at work, he didn't want to go too much into detail," Mum said. "Right," I replied. I reached for the bottle of whiskey, took the cap off and poured two shots, handing one to Mum. She eyed me as I smiled cheekily. "Um, to mother son bonding?" "Hmmm, I think your trying to get me drunk Marcus!" Mum accused, but held up her glass anyway. "No, how about... to Mums naughty night in." "I don't get to be a part of this toast?" I queried. "Just drink!" she said and we both knocked our shots back. She smiled as she licked her lips. "No, this is all about me tonight. I don't get to have many silly drinks anymore, not like this, I'm going to make the most of it." I smiled, "Alright, how about we make this more fun." I got up and retrieved a pack of cards from my bag then sat back down on the bed facing Mum. "The rules are simple, Texas holdem poker. We bet a shot for each round, the loser that hand takes the other person's shots that they bet. You can fold in the first round without having to take a shot, however folding any other time and you still need to drink." "Alright, though it'll be a short game with that much drinking involved," Mum smiled. "You do know how to play poker right," I queried, to which I received a pillow in the face to the sound of Mums laughter. "Of course I do smart-ass," she laughed. I sorted the cards to only include 7's and up seeing as only two of us were playing, and giving them a good shuffle, dealt 2 cards each to begin the game. "I'm in," Mum said, after looking at her cards. I also went in and laid down 3 cards between us. Mum smiled, in turn I smiled at her inability to keep a straight face when she had a good hand. Though what's a drinking game without risks. We both went in, taking the amount of shots to 2 and I laid down a fourth card between us. Mum reluctantly agreed to stay in for the next round which increased the shots to 3. I laid down the fifth card and Mum groaned as she threw her cards down in front of her. "One pair of aces," she said. I laughed as I laid down my cards. "Three of a kind." "Bastard," she said. "Right, let me have it then." She took her 3 shots like a pro. We then played another hand which she folded straight away without having to have a shot. The next hand I lost, much to mums delight and I took 3 shots of the sweet smooth whiskey to chants of "DRINK DRINK DRINK" from Mum as she really seemed to loosen up. I won the next hand and did the same chant as Mum did her shots, she downed these ones even quicker than the first 3, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand to remove an errant drop and eyed the practically empty bottle before looking at me, "Only enough for one more game." "Better make it count then," I smiled. I was feeling nice and relaxed, even though I had drunken more than Mum in the last few hours, she had drunken more in the last 30 minutes and she must have been feeling the effects quite nicely. She was still composed, however her eyes were glazed over slightly and she was certainly smiling a lot more than usual. We started another hand, pouring out the shots as we played, however it turned out there was only enough whiskey for 2 shots and before we went into the final round Mum suddenly piped up, laughing, "Okay, because there isn't enough whiskey, the loser of this hand has to take off a piece of clothing as well as drink." "Strip poker Mum? You're full of surprises," I said. "Well I've got a very nice buzz on and I'm enjoying myself, unless you'd prefer to play for money?" Mum replied. "We're drinking the last of my money," I stated. "Oh well, clothing it is then. Are you going in?" she asked smirking at me. "Fuck it, I'm in," I said, and laid down the last card. I was hoping for a straight, all I got was a pair. Mum smiled as she laid down a full house, she didn't even need the last card, and she had bluffed me. I laid down my hand much to my mother's amusement as she broke into laughter. "Drink and strip, drink and strip," she chanted as I knocked back the shots and then quickly whipped of my t-shirt. I wasn't in amazing shape, meaning I never bothered to work out, but I also had nothing to be ashamed of with my body, and it wasn't unusual for me to go about the house with no top on anyway, so it was nothing Mum hasn't already seen before. Regardless, she gave a holler and a cheer anyway and I jokingly pushed out my chest in response. "This is fun," she laughed. "You played me, you knew you were going to win that's why you suggested strip poker," I smiled. "Awww, were you hoping to get your mother naked," Mum teased. "Well, at least some embarrassment on your part would have been nice," I grinned. "Well, deal again, you may get lucky," she challenged as she wiggled into the bed, bracing herself for the next hand. I just smiled as I dealt another 2 cards each, we both looked at each other before both agreeing to go in. Playing through the hand we kept teasing each other and eventually when I had won, to my surprise I started chanting "Take it off, take it off." We both laughed as Mum stood from the bed, she was meant to be embarrassed, and instead she was enjoying herself, doing a small dance before me to show she didn't care. "Top or bottoms?" she asked. "Um, you choose," I said, uncertain. "Bottoms it is then," Mum sung, then wiggled her hips as she slowly pushed the pink pyjama bottoms down her thighs, then wiggling some more until they fell down her legs to the floor. She was wearing plain white cotton underwear, not the shear lacy kind, but the comfortable not to full but hugging all the right places kind, and I must admit, she certainly had the right places. Mum noticed me looking at her underwear covered crotch, and began wiggling her hips again while slowly twirling around. The full underwear cupped her ass and I enjoyed the view, her ass cheeks looked nice and firm just begging to be squeezed. "Whoa, nice butt Mum," I cheered. Mum laughed, "You like that?" To which she wiggled her ass at me, the full cheeks jiggling perfectly to her movements and I was tempted to reach out and squeeze one, but before I could Mum turned and leapt onto the bed, settling back down where she had been sitting before. She was giggling, "Right, next hand." And I lost. Mum was ecstatic with joy as she clapped her hands together. "Take them off, take them off," she sung. I hesitated for one brief moment before realising it was all in good fun and then fell back on the bed onto my back and lifting my legs in the air pulled my pyjama bottoms down over my butt and manoeuvred them swiftly off my legs. Mum cheered while I sat back up, crossing my legs now in nothing but my boxer shorts. Mum smiled, looking between my legs and said, "Nice package son." I had to laugh before reaching between my legs and giving my crotch a couple good teasing squeezes, "You like that?" "Mmmhmm," Mum grinned. "Hey mum, my eyes are up here," I said, getting a little excited that Mum was checking me out, much like I had been doing to her only moments ago, and I felt my dick started to respond to that excitement. Mum laughed as she looked up at my face, "Sorry Marcus, you're more than just a piece of meat. Another hand?" This time I won and I found myself waiting to see what awaited me under her pyjama top. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before she shrugged her shoulders and grabbing the bottom of her cotton pyjama top quickly pulled it up and over her head. As her blonde hair fell to settle on her bare shoulders I drank in her near naked form, her smooth slightly rounded tummy, her full round breasts encased in a white cotton bra, her skin white, her overall sexiness a satisfying vision. I stared openly at her beauty, surprised I'd never noticed how gorgeous my own mother was, I was speechless however my dick said everything I was thinking when I felt it get proper hard and looking up at mums face she grinned ear to ear, telling me she definitely noticed. "Something tells me you're enjoying yourself there," she smirked, subconsciously, or not, she began to run a finger down from the top of her bra strap, down along the swell of her breast and then back again. "Fuck Mum," I gasped. "You're stunning." "I can tell you think so," Mum grinned, motioning to my crotch. I smiled, "Looks like we've still a couple hands left, care to carry on?" "Oh most definitely," Mum laughed. With both of us down to our underwear this was certainly heading somewhere I had never imagined. In fact, I had never thought of my mother as a sexual being before. Up until now she was always just 'Mum'. Now here we were, just one poker hand away from crossing a forbidden line into dangerous territory, and I found myself anxiously anticipating the glory of getting my gorgeous mother naked. Luck was with me, I won again. "Hmmm, this game just took a shift in a far naughtier direction. So what's it going to be? Bra?" Mum asked smiling, then surprising me she reached up, cupping her round breasts in her hands and giving them a couple of firm squeezes. "Or underwear?" She was sitting crossed legged on the bed, and smiling mischievously at me her right hand slowly travelled down her smooth stomach and onto the panty covered mound between her legs, she then rubbed herself gently for a few seconds as I looked on in excited wonder. When she pulled her hand away her underwear remained pressed between the lips of her vagina causing a shallow indent inwards, a circle of wetness on the white cotton showing her excitement. The choice was tough, but taking into consideration I wouldn't be getting to taste the goods and only to feed my imagination for future jerk-off sessions I had to go with my first true love, "It's a difficult decision Mum, but I think I'm going to have to go with the bra." Mum smiled as she reached behind her to undo the clasp on her bra, her eyes on me while I watched her chest waiting for my prize. "You know it goes without saying that this stays between us honey. No bragging to your friends that you got your Mum's tits out for extra points in your sex games." The bra slackened under the weight of her breasts as she undid the clasp but held the cups up against her chest as she looked at me. "Of course not Mum, this will just be between you and me," I confirmed. Her hands remained at her chest holding her bra in place, "So what was the objective of your game this time, I'm sure it wasn't to play strip poker with your mother?" I laughed, "No, nothing so common, we had to try getting a girl into bed without asking her name, or ever using her name of you already knew it." "You haven't used my name, does calling me Mum count?" she asked, smiling. "It doesn't count at all because I haven't gotten you into bed yet," I replied cheekily. "Yet?" she asked smirking. "You naughty boy." With that she dropped her hands, pulling her bra down with her as her breasts jiggled into life. They fell slightly with their own weight but remained high on her chest, two perfect handfuls of succulence just urging me to suckle on. Her large pink nipples were erect and practically begging for my attention as I licked my lips hungrily. Mum laughed as she raised her hands to again hold her breasts, giving them a playing jiggle then she released them only to squeeze both nipples between her thumb and index finger of each hand, then have each pink nipple a gentle tug, causing us to both moan with excitement. She released her breasts and smiled at me. "That show was for free, the next will cost you," she laughed. "Another hand then?" My luck had to run out eventually, maybe it was because I was looking at Mum more than my cards, not that we were playing strategically anymore, rather taking the cards as they came. The smile on mums face widened once she saw that she had won and looked down at my boxer shorts. "They come off," she smiled sexily. It could have been the alcohol, or possibly the fact that my sexy mother was sitting across the bed from me wearing nothing but her panties, maybe it was just in the heat of the moment craziness, but I didn't hesitate for one second. Mum cheered out loud as I stood up on the bed and pulled my tight black boxer shorts down my legs letting them drop to my feet as my hard cock sprang out to attention, bobbing about a foot from mums face. I shook my hips a bit, my dick swaying side to side to the movement, slapping gently against each hip. I then sat down crossed legged on the bed, Mum watching me intently as I briefly reached between my legs to grab my dick in my fist and gave it a couple quick strokes, pulling the foreskin back to show off the head of my cock in all its crowning glory. I removed my hand from between my legs, leaving my dick to pulse to its own rhythm, precum forming at the slit. Mum was licking her lips as she eyed me like a predator, her hand was resting between her legs, her wrist gently pressing against her mound. "My god baby," she gasped finally looking into my eyes. "You've got a beautiful cock." "Thanks Mum. I should be embarrassed about being naked in front of you like this, especially because I'm hard, but I'm enjoying this too much to care," I said smiling. Mum smiled back, "What are we gonna do if you lose the next hand, you've got no clothes left to lose?" "I guess I can start putting clothes back on," I joked, really hoping she wouldn't take me up on the offer. "Oh no, we can't have that," Mum said reaching out, her hand coming to rest on my knee. "We'll think of something, maybe you could do the dirty laundry when we get home." "Well, now I have two reasons to win, firstly to get you out of those panties, and to not have to wash them once they're off," I said laughing. "Cheeky," Mum said. "Come on, deal up then." We played through another hand, but it would appear it just wasn't my day for getting my mother naked. I lost again, my mum laughing as she clapped her hands in victory. "I'm assuming that's the last hand then," Mum smiled wickedly at me as she hooked her thumb into the waistband of her underwear and giving them a gentle pull outwards before releasing them so they flicked back against her hip with a slap. "How unfortunate, looks like the panties stay on tonight, but at least you got to see my tits." "And I'll forever cherish the memory, you certainly have great tits Mum," I said, openly ogling her chest. "Mmmhmm," she replied. "Tell you what, seeing as I won that last hand, you have to do anything I ask." "Within reason," I said, though I would have done anything she had asked just to keep this game going longer, I certainly didn't want her putting her clothes back on anytime soon. "Of course," she replied smiling. "Go on then" I confirmed. "I want you to jerk-off for me," she said, her sultry smile matching the dark sexiness in her eyes. "That's well within reason," I said and without hesitation I quickly knelt up on my knees on the bed, taking my hard dick in my left hand and immediately started pumping. It's not like I had to think about it, the moment this game had started to get interesting I'd been horny, and it's not often you get to masturbate to your practically naked mother on the bed next to you, and God does she have a sexy body. Mum looked on smiling as I stroked my cock in front of her, the pleasure coursing through my body to the sensations of my pumping fist coupled with the visual stimulation of Mums body. "Mmmm baby," she said as she licked her lips, watching my fist up and down my now slick cock. "You look absolutely delicious." "So do you Mum," I groaned. "Looking at your body... at your tits... while jerking off to you.... is just so fucking hot." Mum moaned as she fell back on the bed and stretched out beside me. She slowly stroked her hands up and down her stomach before coming to rest on her chest to cup each of her breasts, giving them a good squeeze while continuing to watch me. She gave each of her hard pink nipples a rough squeeze before she slowly slid her hands back down her stomach, and spreading her legs was soon was rubbing her mound over top of her underwear. The Rules Are Simple We watched each others self pleasure before I looked her face and our eyes connected for a brief moment and she smiled again. "What are you thinking about right now?" Mum asked, sliding a hand under the waistband of her underwear and began to rub herself under the now very wet cotton panties. I watched her playing with herself, her underwear blocking what I craved so much to see, "I'm thinking..." I moaned. "I'm thinking you should lose the underwear." "Mmmm, does my baby wanna see mummy's pussy?" She grinned, then gasping as her head fell back, her hips pushing up against her hand rubbing between her legs. "Fuck yes," I said, stroking good and hard on my dick as I towering over mums writhing body. "Then say it," she said opening her eyes and looking up at me, the look on her face giving away the lust she was feeling at that moment. "I wanna see your pussy," I said. "Who's pussy?" she asked. "I want to see your pussy Mum, I can't think of anything sexier than watching my own mother fingering her wet fucking cunt," I moaned, my cock throbbing in my hand as I heard the words coming out of my own mouth turning me on even more. Mum smiled wickedly up at me, the look in her eyes was one of mischievous filth I had never seen before. "Mmmm, my Naughty little boy," she said, then removing her hand from her underwear she raised her ass off the bed and slowly pulled them down her legs and over her feet before discarding them onto the floor. Her hand went back between her legs to cover her pussy from my invasive eyes before again spreading them wide before me. She smiled up at me then laughed a little. "This is so fucking wrong, on so many levels," she said, but before I could respond with the hundred reasons suddenly coming to mind as to why we should continue, she removed her hand from between her legs to finally bare her full nakedness to me. I had to stop stroking on my dick for fear of coming too soon I was so turned on, her pussy was shaved bare apart from a light brown triangle of hair just above her slit. The lips of her vagina were thick and juicy, wet with her excitement, and far more delicious than any pussy I'd ever been privileged to have unveiled before me. "Shit Mum, you're a fucken goddess," I moaned. "You can tell me how beautiful I am later, for now how about you keep playing with that gorgeous cock of yours while Mummy fingers her wet cunt," Mum said as her hand returned between her legs and she rubbed her clit, her other hand gripping roughly at her tits. I enthusiastically resumed stroking my cock, my excitement levels at an all new high as we watched each other pleasure ourselves, the only sound in the room was our occasional approving moans and the slick noise of our wetness. I watched as mums finger would move from rubbing her clit to slide down between her pussy lips and then disappear inside herself. She looked up into my eyes sexily as she repeated this several times before raising her hand up to her smiling lips to suck her finger clean. "Mmmm, I taste good," she moaned, returning to finger her pussy but this time using two fingers as she pushed them deep inside herself. I could only watch in pleasure as I continued to stroke myself off. "So Marcus," she started, continuing to finger herself. "With your little game, what kind of things would you have to do to win?" "Well it's based on points, the more things you did together, and the naughtier the deed, the more points you would get," I answered. "So how many points have we scored already?" she questioned. I laughed, "This would be worth three points, though to be fair, because you're my mother this is more likely a hundred points." "No no, normal rules apply. So if you were to win the game, how many points would you need?" she asked. "43 to lead," I replied. Mum laughed. "Okay, that is quite a ways to go." She sucked on both of her slick fingers as she looked up at me thoughtfully. "So, how many points if you were to get between mummy's legs and lick my juicy wet pussy?" I smiled ear to ear. "3 points." Mum spread herself wider as she slipped her hand back down between her legs, spreading her pussy open for me. "Well, let's start there then," she purred. I suddenly wondered if this was really happening or was I just dreaming. Was I about to take this final taboo step, to crawl between my own mother legs, to taste her passion, to do something so wrong? "You fucken know it," I grinned, as I fell between Mums smooth long legs. Laying on my stomach I inhaled the strong scent of her sex, and like an animal I buried my face in her wet pussy, tasting my mother with my tongue for the first time. She moaned as I enthusiastically lapped at her, her juices thick and sweet as I sucked on her cunt before she grabbed the back of my head with both hands, pulling me deeper while she ground herself intimately against my probing tongue. "Ohhhhh baby, your making me feel soooo good," she moaned then directed me higher on her pussy to where she wanted my tongue on her. "Lick my clit baby, suck on mummy's clit and fuck me with your fingers." And I did just that, pushing two fingers deep inside her pussy, the meaty lips clutching at me, sucking me into her wetness. I couldn't believe this was happening, it was beyond my greatest imagination, however I had the taste of my mother's pussy on my tongue to prove it and her moaning confirmed I was doing something right. I continued to push my fingers in and out of her, occasionally grinding my hand against her pussy when pushing deep inside her only to have her moan more while she pushed herself against my invading hand, attempting to get me even deeper. I flicked her hard clit with my tongue as I pushed my hand harder against her vagina, her pussy widening slowly, giving way as I attempted to push more of my hand inside her, in some way trying to re-enter back to the place of my origin. Mum laughed as she grabbed my head and pulled me up, I followed willingly as she lead me to crawl up between her legs until we were face to face while I hovered over her. "Baby, I usually prefer to be fucked before I get a whole fist shoved inside me," she smirked up at me, pushing down on my butt and urging me to lay on top of her, our bodies connecting skin to skin for the first time. "Though the thought of being so dirty for you is an absolute turn on, I'd prefer to build up to getting myself so thoroughly stretched." "Mum, I'm putty in your hands, you feel so good right now I'd do whatever you asked," I said as I pressed down on her, her round breasts flattening against my chest as my hard cock pulsed against her mound. "Just fucken kiss me," she said as she leant up, her eyes smiling up at me before she closed them and pressed her lips against mine. It was our first kiss as lovers and it was soft and delicate. I wondered if she tasted herself on my lips and my dick twitched some more against her with excitement. She moaned into my mouth then pushed her tongue between my lips, kissing me passionately while she reached downed and, grabbing my ass checks, began to grind herself against my hardness. I kissed her back, my own tongue sliding along hers as we soon found a good rhythm, our bodies moving together as our passion for each other grew in intensity. Mum, showing strength I didn't know she had, threw me off her and onto my back as she followed after me, and before I knew it she was straddling me. "Now, because we're both pretty drunk, and I'd say we're both up for anything, I'll give you a choice," she breathed as she began to rock her hips against me, her soaking cunt sliding along the length of my cock laying sandwiched between our bodies. "We can either continue to fool around like we're doing now," she purred, and leant down to give me a gentle kiss before she quickly sat up on her knees and taking hold of my cock, pointed the head right against her pussy, the lips spreading open slightly as I felt the warmth begin to envelop me. "Or, we can spend the rest of the night fucking each other silly and acting on every dirty thought that enters our heads." "I think you know what I want Mum," I replied, running my hands up her thighs, coming to rest on her hips, her nakedness before me still making it hard for me to think of anything else. "Good boy," Mum purred and sunk down on me with her full weight, my cock sliding deep into her body. Her pussy was warm and wet and as she lifted her body I tightly gripped her hips and pulled her back down as I pushed my cock up hard inside her again. Mum gasped out loud then fell forward on top of me as she pressed her body hard against my own. I took hold of her ass in both hands and in small assertive movements I started moving in and out of her quickly, her cunt gripping tightly to the length of my cock. "Oh baby," Mum gasped. "I can't believe I'm fucking my own son, but it feels so good." She then started moving her hips against me, our rhythms syncing perfectly as her ass would rise and fall in time to me pushing my cock in and out of her wetness. With every stroke we would both press harder against each other as our bodies would slap together roughly causing us both to moan out loud as we continued our dance into incestuous sin. "God Mum, your cunt is so fucken wet, I love being inside you," I groaned. "Yes baby," Mum said as she sat up straight and continued to grind herself against me, her eyes were closed as she concentrated on the pleasure of our joined bodies. "Inside me is where you belong." I reached up and cupped both of her tits, squeezing them roughly before pinching each of her nipples, Mum moaning in response as she began raising her ass higher before slamming back down into my lap as she used my cock for her own guilty pleasure. There we were, a mother and her son, joined together with no regard of right or wrong, only of the pleasure we were giving each other, tasting the forbidden fruits of incest. I pushed myself deeper inside of her body with every thrust as she leant forward, her hands pressing against my chest for balance as she pushed back against my every thrust into her. Suddenly, she pushed down hard against me as she cried out, grinding herself on me wildly. "Ohhhhh Fuck, I'm coming baby, your cock is so fucking good I'm coming." I gripped her hips roughly and pulled her down against me as I felt my own orgasm approaching. "I'm coming too Mum," I warned as my cock throbbed deep inside my own mothers clutching cunt. "Yes son, I want your seed deep inside my belly, come in me baby, Ohhhhh gooooood," Mum wailed as she threw herself down on top of me again, her body vibrating violently as she buried her face into my neck, her pussy clutching on my cock as I shot my load deep inside of her. All thoughts of right or wrong had now completely vanished, replaced by the purely primitive instinct to mate and have babies as shot after shot of my potent seed entered my own mothers body, beginning the journey to her womb. We were both panting as our bodies began to come down from their release and Mum was gently sucking on my neck as her pussy continued to squeeze my cock, milking the last of my orgasm inside her. My arms were wrapped around her back, clutching her against me possessively as I came down from the high of what we had just done, surprising myself at the lack of guilt that I felt. Finally Mum leant up and leaned on her elbow, looking down at me smiling, "Well, wasn't that a surprise." "I'll say," I replied, running my hands up and down her back a few times before my right hand came to rest on a firm ass check which I gave a hard squeeze. "I must admit Mum, you're absolutely the hottest Fuck I've ever had." "You cheeky bugger," she laughed slapping my chest. Eventually she lifted off me, my dick slipping out of her sodden pussy as she lay down beside me, resting her head in her hand, her left leg draped across my body as she pressed herself against me. "Mmmm, I can feel your cum dripping out of me." "Let me know if you want some more," I grinned as I ran the tips of my fingers down her ass crack, and with her leg draped over me she was wide open to my exploring fingers and soon I was gently flicking over her asshole. She inhaled deeply as my fingers moved down lower onto her pussy, delightfully sticky and wet with our combined juices. I got my fingers good and slippery then massaged my way slowly back up to her asshole, again rubbing her gently using our own cum to get her wet. Mum sighed then smirked down at me, "You wouldn't dare do that to your own mother." I continued to rub her slippery rosebud with my index finger, "We just had sex, and I licked your pussy, why not some assplay as well?" I said as I pushed my finger inside her tight ass right up to the knuckle. Mum moaned out loud, "Mmmm, well I do enjoy something in my ass from time to time, speaking of which..." She ran her hand down my stomach and took my now only half hard cock in her hand before looking into my eyes. "Now this just won't do Marcus, let's see if we can't suck some life into your little soldier there." Mum knelt up then turned on the bed as my finger reluctantly slipped from her asshole, and bending over with her ass high in the air pointed towards me she sucked my dick into her mouth. It was my turn to grown in pleasure as she started blowing me, and quickly I felt my cock getting harder under the ministrations of Mums experienced mouth. I ran my hand over her to gorgeous upturned butt, loving every curve of her figure, reminding myself that this beauty sucking on my cock and giving me full access to her lovely body was my very own mother. Once I was fully hard again she took her mouth off me for a moment and looked back at me, "I can taste both of us on your cock, and we taste delicious together, I would love to share this with you." With a fluid movement she suddenly swung her leg over my head and dropped her pussy down on my face. I immediately buried my tongue inside her again, the sticky wetness of our combined sex coating my face as I tasted the sweetness of our previous orgasm. Mum moaned loudly before resuming her attack on my prick with renewed vigour, licking up and down my shaft wildly before again sucking the full length back into her mouth. I mimicked her enthusiasm on her pussy as I gripped her ass checks in both hands, squeezing roughly before spreading them wide and attempted to lick her puckered asshole. The angle wasn't quite right but Mum knew what I wanted and encouraged it by sitting up, bringing her asshole inline with my mouth as she gently ground herself against my face moaning aloud. I lapped at her like a dog, licking up at her asshole as she rode my face before pushing my tongue as deep inside her ass as possible. "Oh you dirty little Bastard, lick mummy's ass, fuck my dirty little asshole with your tongue," she purred, leaning forward to grab my dick, and gripping me tightly, jerked me off as I continued eating her ass. Suddenly she lifted off me and shuffled down the bed a bit, keeping her ass pushed into the air, "Damn it Marcus, fuck me now." She wiggled her ass at me as I jumped to attention behind her and gripping my cock with one hand, her hip with the other, I lined my dick up with her soaking pussy and pushed right up inside her to the hilt. We groaned together as I pulled out slowly then pushed back in with a slap. Mum looked back. "Fuck me," she ordered. Not wanting to disappoint my mother I gripped her hips tightly and began pistoning in and out of her as hard and as quick as I could. Mum just groaned loudly as I worked on her pussy, pushing back against my every thrust into her to ensure the deepest possible penetration. I could feel her pussy clutching at me tightly, sucking me back deep inside whenever I pulled out, not allowing me to leave. "Mum, I love your pussy so much, you have the juiciest cunt, I could just Fuck you forever," I panted, overcome by my enthusiasm to pleasure my mother. "Yes baby, I love your hard cock inside me... inside my pussy... ahhh... in my mouth... up my ass. You can fuck Mummy any way you want baby, I want your cum all over me.... inside of me, I want you to come all over my tits, on my face.... Ohhhhh," Mum moaned as she pushed a hand between her own legs and started frantically rubbing her clit while I continued to fuck her, but her dirty talk really got to me and I felt my orgasm quickly approaching. "Oh Mum," I warned. "I'm gonna come again." "Yessss," Mum hissed. "Come deep inside me again, cum deep inside my body.... where it will do the most good." I went into overdrive, gripping her body roughly as I shoved myself deep inside her over and over again, both of us crying out in pleasure at the shear animalistic sensations coursing through us before I gave one final thrust into her, releasing my seed once again deep inside my mothers forbidden body. "Yes, come in me, come inside me.... I'm coming as well, ohhhhhh ffffuuuuuccccckkkkk," Mum screamed as I felt the contractions of her pussy around my shaft, squeezing, milking every last drop of my orgasm inside of her. We were panting heavily when we both started to calm down from our excitement and I pulled out of her, slumping down on the bed. Mum turned and fell down beside me, cuddling tightly against me, both of us covered in sweat. We lay in silence catching our breath, I held Mum tightly against me, fearful that this will be the last time I'll get to feel my mothers naked body against my own. I needn't have worried. Mum began to laugh quietly into my chest. "How many points was that then?" "Fuck Mum, I have no idea... I just got to fuck my unbelievably hot mother, that's worth more points than anyone is ever going to score again," I laughed. Mum leant up and kissed me, her tongue entering my mouth, seeking out my own. I held her tight as we kissed, less hurried than before but with the same forbidden passion. Mum broke the kiss and smiled at me. "I'm looking forward to our next drinking game." "Oh I've got plenty of ideas for drinking games," I smirked. "Good, because I've got plenty of ideas of ways for you to fuck me." The end. The Rules of Fidelity and... The Rules of Fidelity and the Price of Honor An author on this site recently posted a story in which the wife had an affair. The resolution to the story was that she fell in love with the man she had the affair with but gave him up in favor of her husband. The affair was never discovered and it haunted her that she had to choose between her loves. Many of the comments on the story focused on the fact that she did not get discovered. The husband didn't get revenge. She wasn't outcast and destroyed. The point of this story, however, it seems to me, to be about the personal consequences not the public ones. The lady chose to begin an affair that divided her loyalties to her husband. She in the end was forced to choose and give up what became a great love for the sake of her commitment to her husband. Any affair has the potential to become a loving relationship (unless the participants are psychopath/ sociopaths). We as a society have "embraced" (for lack of a better word) the idea that you can only love one person at a time. This is tripe. The HEART wants WHO the HEART wants WHENEVER the HEART wants it. It does not care much about what the intellect has to say about it. We are by nature a social species and as such we crave attention and affection from others. Some people narrow their focus to a single person forever. Hurrah! Great for them! I hope they are happy. Others find this more difficult. That is why we have so many failed marriages today. I do not advocate having extramarital affairs. To me a marriage is a covenant, a contract, a sacred oath that is given to BIND A COUPLE TOGHETHER AS ONE. That oath is a personal one and is NOT to be broken. If you are not ready to give that kind of commitment then you are not ready for marriage. I'm told that I was born in the wrong century as I feel that when you give your word you keep it. End of discussion! It's that simple. It is a matter of personal honor. Honor in the old sense that you do what you promised to do no matter how distasteful you may find it. No matter that it costs you something you truly desire. NO ONE can take our honor but we can surrender it. Once it is gone it is hard, if not impossible, to get it back. We as a people seem to have forgotten that what sets us aside from the beasts is that we have the ability to reason and therefore to choose. We also, due primarily to that fact, are in a race of passions for control of our bodies. Lust, anger, joy, despair, and a myriad of others all seek dominion of our being. A man or woman can look at another man or woman and appreciate his or her beauty without the need to drag them off and have sex with that person. The trend today, however, is that if it feels good at the moment do it. If nobody knows about it then "No harm, No Foul". This is an incorrect assumption for most of us because with the ability to reason comes the birth of the conscience. The certain knowledge that what we do can hurt others in terrible and tragic ways. Once you are in a monogamous committed relationship (YES marriage IS a committed relationship!) Then you have agreed to give up all other loves, lusts, etc. in favor of your partner. Are you allowed to feel the pull of these things? Yes of course. Are you allowed to act on these things? NO! No exceptions. Any action taken on these feelings is a betrayal of oneself. It is a violation of your promise, your oath, the surrendering of your honor. Outside of a marriage, in other relationships other lifestyles are quite prevalent as well. Those engaged in the swinging and swapping lifestyle have a different commitment. They have agreed to allow others into their lives and relationships but not their hearts. They have agreed to share their bodies with others outside their partnership. This is also acceptable. But all too often people forget the rules in favor of the joys of the moment. Again tragedy strikes and people are hurt. The relationship is damaged beyond repair or destroyed outright. Most marriages fail because people stop talking TO one another and talk AT one another. They stop caring if what is being said and felt is being heard and felt by their partner. That is the beginning of the death of a marriage or relationship. If at anytime it becomes a one sided effort then the chances of surviving as a couple, as a marriage are nil; a marriage as well as a relationship takes two to make it work. When only one is trying then they tend to give up and look for that type of caring elsewhere. How often have we heard it said "It was only once?" "It didn't mean anything!" "They meant nothing to me!" And yet it or they must have meant something to you to throw away a precious thing like a marriage or a committed relationship in order to have them in your bed. And for those who didn't get caught and feel guilty the cost is even higher because until you have told your partner about it then you have no commitment, no true relationship. All you have is the lie that stands between you and your loved one. With every passing hour the lie lives it becomes more unlikely to that the couple or marriage will survive as such. The most common excuse for not telling a partner is "They'll leave me!" Well DUH! You knew that going in that an affair it might cost you the person you loved. And yet the loss of their love is not even the greatest of losses. The loss of that person's respect for you, the loss of their esteem, and the loss of their regard for you, the loss of trust is the greatest loss. For without these things love dies. It cannot flourish in a barren environment and these are the food that love needs to grow and thrive. Without them there is no chance for love to survive. So if you know the rules to personal honor, and the rules to a relationship, why do we so often fail? I don't have that answer. I have never violated the rules of a relationship. I have never been married. But I keep hoping one day to find the special person for me who also knows these rules and is willing to abide by them. The Rules of the Game So Meliel the Elf was a wizard. She really wasn't sure how to feel about that. "But I don't know how to play this stupid game," she said. "You must go to the city of Rulesberg," said the wise old elves. "There you will meet the One Who Knows the Goddamn Rules. Perhaps he will take you as an apprentice." "But I'm only level one and know like three spells." "For Elberon's sake, just go already!" "I think Elberon is a place in Iowa." So Meliel the Level One Wizard was banished from her home and sent to travel to Rulesberg with a letter from the elders. "Walking is boring," Meliel complained. "Meow," her cat familiar said. Meliel looked at it suspiciously. She didn't understand the rules for familiars and she didn't really want to. What was the point in having a pet cat, anyway? Meliel had to stop for rests a lot. Her Constitution was a 7. That meant she took -2 every time she started to walk. She wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but it wasn't good. "Meow," her cat familiar said. Meliel threw a rock at it. She rolled a three. Miss. "I hate this stupid game," Meliel said, and she walked on. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Leila the level one human cleric was commanded by Pelor to go to the city of Rulesberg, where she would serve her god at the temple there. That's what the head cleric at her old temple said, and Leila believed him. He was level five, which was really high, and he could probably talk to Pelor whenever he wanted. Leila could talk to him to. He just didn't answer. Being a level one cleric was a little intimidating. One the one hand she had armor and a mace, which seemed simple enough. Except the rules about standard, free, move and full actions seemed a little intimidating. Then there were all those skills. How did they work, and did she put her points into the right ones? She would pray to Pelor for guidance, of course. She had to do that anyway to get her spells. She could cast so few of them. It made her nervous. What if she ran out? What if she chose the wrong ones for the day? Did she have to make Concentration checks, and how did they work? Going to Rulesberg wasn't a bad idea, was it? It couldn't be. Leila had decided to, and she was very wise. Her ability score said so. Leila decided to put her faith in Pelor. She didn't have anything else to put her faith in. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Isalie was glad becoming a level one rogue didn't mean she suddenly had to make an Acrobatics check every time she wanted to fuck. She wouldn't know where to keep all her dice. Just kidding. Of course she didn't literally roll a die every time she wanted to do something. The Great Die in the Sky rolled itself. All halflings, Isalie included, believed in the Great Die in the Sky. Why shouldn't they? It believed in them. Halflings were notoriously lucky. Isalie was glad she had become a rogue. It meant she could make her Dexterity her highest ability score. And Isalie liked being dextrous. It was...useful. Isalie shifted in her straps and squealed happily as the...actually, she wasn't sure. "What species are you?" she said. "Human," he said, startled. "Oh, right. I get all the Big Peoples mixed up. Well, keep going!" Isalie shifted in her straps and squealed happily as the human man plunged into her. Just one more night here, Isalie thought. Then I'll go to Rulesberg. Isalie had decided when she was very young that she was going to grow up to have a fun adventure. Unfortunately, she lived in a world where having a fun adventure seemed to need a dozen rulebooks. But then she had gotten older and found that other things could be really fun too. Now she had decided to do both. Isalie wasn't worried about anything. She couldn't help it. Her Wisdom was only 7. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Saelanys kept to herself. Half-elves tended to. Humans didn't like them, elves didn't like them, dwarves didn't like them, and halflings found them baffling. Gnomes were fine with half-elves, but who wanted to be friends with a gnome? Saelanys liked being a fighter, even if she was only level one. It meant she could keep to herself. She wasn't like a squishy wizard who needed an entire party shielding her to face an encounter. Saelanys had scale armor and a really big greatsword. Any monster or bandit that tried to bother her on her way to Rulesberg would swiftly regret it. Saelanys didn't mind having only 9 Charisma. She wouldn't make any friends anyway. All she wanted to do was level up. Once she had gained a few levels, she could cross-class, learn some magic or some rogue utility, take a prestige class...she wasn't sure how any of that actually worked, but she was looking forward to it. The more levels she had, the more independent she could be. Saelanys really wanted to level up. The only problem was, all quests and campaigns seemed designed for a party. Hopefully she would find one in Rulesberg. It was better than...other things. "I can really get XP by doing this?" she said. "Of course," the dwarf said. "It's called roleplaying XP. Never heard of it?" "But this isn't really in character for me." "Sure it is. You're a half-elf, aren't you? What else are they good for? Now get to sucking." He thrust his hips forward, in case she didn't understand. Wishing her Wisdom score wasn't only a 9, Saelanys closed her eyes and leaned her head forward. She really needed a party. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Far away in Rulesberg castle lived the queen and king. No one knew very much about them. There were rumors about the court. Many adventurers came to Rulesberg looking for a quest, knowing how unsubstantiated rumors tended to be true. They tended not to make it as far as the court. Rulesberg was big. Adventurers became lost in the inns and taverns, the life of shops and gossip. If it seems strange that adventurers could become distracted by things so mundane, it may be that in Rulesberg the shops can be quite dangerous, the inns full of unusual adventures. Adventurers who overcome that hurdle might find excitement in the army or the magical neighborhoods where all manner of dangerous and foolish undertakings go on. There is the prison, and loads of quests to be found from all the travelers pouring in and out of Rulesberg. And the general threat of dragons, orcs, and so on that eternally harass every city. Rulesberg is a dangerous place. You can't survive there if you don't know the rules.