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Not So Trivial Pursuit

By: virtualatheist



Cheryl sat back in her chair, brushed an errant strand of jet-black hair from her eyes and blew out heavily. She was musing to herself, "Bam! Thud! Spattered in runny clay." 

She twizzled her gold pen between forefinger and thumb whilst her other hand toyed with her French plaited hair and murmured once more, "Bam! Thud! Spattered in runny clay, 3, 4." 

Inspiration! She clapped a hand to her forehead and said, "Of course!" before writing the words 'mud bath' into the crossword grid. She was making a start on the next clue when a polite cough interrupted her chain of thought. Cheryl looked up and saw Thomas Baker, a new addition to the company. 

"Yes, Thomas?" she asked. 

"Do you mind if I sit here?" 

"No, not at all. Please." 

He placed his tray on the table and sat down beside her and began to eat his lunch. His eye wandered round the crowded canteen and he muttered, "Busy today." 

Cheryl sighed to herself and answered, "Yes." She hoped that she had managed to inject just enough polite disinterest in her voice so that he would take the hint and leave her to her crossword. However, this was not to be. Thomas glanced at where she was fiddling with her pen and studying the next clue. 

"The Times cryptic," he said, "I'm impressed. I have trouble with the easy one in the Sun." 

She sighed again, nodded briefly and continued with the puzzle. 

"Please," she thought to herself, "please get the message." 

But it appeared that this was also not to be. Thomas looked over her arm at the crossword and read out loud, "Murines! The civic German is working at home in England. 4, 4. What on Earth is that supposed to mean?" 

Defeated, Cheryl decided to humour him, it was obvious that he wanted to start a conversation. "Well," she said, "this one's quite easy." 

He stared blankly at the crossword and replied, "Oh. Is it?" 

"Yes. Look, murines. That means mice or rats. Bovine is cow, canine is dog, murine is mouse or rat." 

"So the first word is rat or mouse... no wait, can't be, it's four letters." 

Cheryl smiled, "Well we haven't finished yet. Civic German working at home. So think about it. Home in German is haus... well nearly, anyway. Civic, what could that be about? What about rat haus? That's the German equivalent of one of our civic buildings." 

Thomas's lips moved silently for a moment before he said, "Town Hall!" 

She regarded his look of triumph, "Well done." 

Thomas grinned at her, "I'd like to thank all those who worked in the background to make this the astonishing success that it was." He took her hand and kissed it. Cheryl found herself shivering slightly at the touch of his lips, before gently pulling her hand free. She could also feel her cheeks reddening slightly. 

He seemed to sense her discomfort and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." 

"Oh don't be silly, it was just a laugh." 

Thomas held her eye for a long moment, his face unreadable until he broke out into his now familiar grin and said, "So what else?" 

"Sorry?" 

"Games. What other games do you play?" 

Cheryl was a little taken aback by the question, it could after all be taken two ways. 

"What exactly do you mean?" 

Thomas ignored the slight edge to her voice and replied, "Well, you like crosswords. What other games? Cards? Puzzles? Chess? I love to play chess, myself." 

"Oh... Oh, sorry. Erm, well I've never actually played chess. I do like logical problems though and the old lateral thinking." 

He said with some surprise, "You can't play chess? And I thought you were civilised! I will have to teach you. I'll bring in my set tomorrow and we can play during the break, what do you think?" 

"I don't know..." 

"Oh go on, it'll be fun. You never know, you might even enjoy it." 

In spite of herself, Cheryl was infected by his good humour, "Okay, why not." 

That night, Cheryl let herself into her small flat. She flicked on the living room light before flopping onto the settee and kicked off her shoes. She pulled her foot into her lap and started massaging her toes. A few seconds rubbing then she transferred her attention to her other foot, "Oh, that's better." 

She sat a moment and then wandered into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Whilst she waited for the kettle to boil, her thoughts drifted back to the lunchtime conversation with Thomas. He seemed a pleasant enough man and she had to admit that he had a certain charm about him. He wasn't what you might call handsome, but there was something about him that she found attractive. Not that she intended to do anything about it of course. At thirty-four years old, single and working at a very successful career, she was far too set in her ways to think about a man. Besides, she had been hurt before. 

Cheryl thought about the only man she had been involved with. They had been due to be married, he had respected her wish to remain a virgin until her wedding night, or at least she thought he did. Three days before the ceremony, she had paid an unexpected visit to his house and found him in bed with one of her friends. 

A tear still burned her cheek every time she thought about that night. The argument, the thrown crockery, shouting, tears, recriminations. The words that were said and could never be unsaid. "A cold, frigid robot." That's what he had called her. She remembered how he had tried to turn the situation around so that she was the one at fault instead of him, "A man has needs. If you understood that, then this wouldn't have happened." 

That had hurt. He had never really respected her wish to remain a virgin until the nuptials. He hadn't respected her, not really, otherwise why would she find him in bed with another woman just a few days before the wedding and then try to hold her responsible for his own inadequacies. 

They broke up. 

She could still remember the humiliation she went through cancelling the wedding, telling all her friends what had happened, and worst of all, telling her parents. Her father had been supportive enough, but her mother. God! Her mother had loved it. She had never liked him and told Cheryl so on many occasions. She had tried to keep the triumph out of her voice when her suspicions were brought to light, but she couldn't, not quite. 

The kettle boiled and Cheryl poured it into her mug over the teabag-for-one on the string. Whilst she waited for the infusion to form she stared blankly at the swirling pattern of the brown fluid mingling slowly with the clear water. 

"Two become one," she thought bitterly, "Yeah! Right!" 

So here she was, thirty-four, single, living in a small flat on her own. She had never gotten over his betrayal and had thrown herself into her work with vigour. She used to think she was happy, better off without anyone in her life. She had been on the occasional date that was true, but they never came to anything. As soon as the man she was with got a little too close, a little too personal then she would freeze. She didn't want to, but it was beyond her control. Either that or they disappeared over the horizon when they discovered that she was not an easy proposition. So now, she didn't bother. She just resigned herself to a lifetime of solitude and buried herself in her career. 

But her feelings were changing, she no longer felt so secure in her decision to remain a virgin until married. She was a healthy woman with all the drives and needs associated with it. She was finding herself more and more often daydreaming about the various men in the office and what she could be doing with them. Nothing was stopping her except one thing, her own inhibitions, her own inability to just let go. She had been so badly hurt in the past and all the men she had dated turned out to be feckless and shallow. 

She also knew that the men in her professional life and her social life (such as it was) saw her as unapproachable. She had even accidentally overheard herself described as 'The Ice Maiden' over the coffee machine. 

That had hurt more than she thought imaginable. She knew she kept everyone distant, but it still hurt. The two men involved had the decency to be embarrassed when they realised that she had heard them discussing her, but her own pride kept her from any display at all of how much it had stung. 

Then her thoughts returned to Thomas. He was about twenty-four or twenty-five, average height and stocky build. Dark hair, not as dark as her own ebony locks, but a deep velvety brown with eyes to match. She liked his eyes. Dark yes, but not brooding and piercing as all the slushy romance novels would have you believe such eyes should be. No, they sparkled. It was like he had just told himself a joke, a joke to which no one else was party. 

She wondered briefly if he was interested in her before deriding herself, "Idiot woman! You've got ten years on him as well as your reputation. No, he just wants to play chess. After all, what else could he want?" 

Lunchtime the next day saw Cheryl walk into the canteen. Thomas stood up at the far table and waved her across. On the table in front of him was a small magnetic chessboard, with all the pieces set up and ready to play. 

"Hi," he grinned, "Ready for your first lesson?" 

Cheryl smiled back politely and answered, "Yes." 

They sat down and Thomas ran through the basic rules and explained how each of the pieces moved. Once Cheryl agreed that she understood the rudiments, they started to play. 

Thomas went first, made a move and said, "King pawn to King 3." 

"Sorry?" 

"Oh, that's the move I just made. Look, see how it works. Each of the squares is named for the main piece of the column and each row is numbered. So I take this pawn," he said pointing to the pawn in front of the white king," and move it forward one from row two to row three. So it's King pawn to King 3. Okay?" 

Cheryl was a little confused, "Erm... sorry, no." 

"Never mind, perhaps I went a bit fast with this bit. There is an easier method. If you just allocate the squares a column and row by the numbers and letters around the outside, then you just reference the square by the letter number coordinate, then you don't need to remember the classical notation. So I'll make the same move and just say E2-E3. Is that better for you?" 

"Oh yes. Much better, thanks." 

"Okay then. Your turn." 

Cheryl studied the board for a moment and then made her move. She placed a pawn from in front of one of her castles, or rooks as Thomas had called them and said, "Erm, H7-H5." 

Thomas immediately moved his bishop and countered with, "F1-C4." 

Intrigued, but still none the wiser as to what he was up to, Cheryl decided to move her rook forward. It was, as she understood it, one of the most powerful pieces on the board so she thought it best to bring it out early. 

"H8-H6." 

Again, there was no hesitation from Thomas as he brought his queen from the back line diagonally, "D1-F3" 

What was he up to? She could see his queen was directly attacking her open pawn, but he couldn't take it when it was protected by her rook. Unsure, she decided to move a pawn forward to attack his exposed bishop. 

"B7-B5." 

Thomas grinned and moving his queen to a square at her end of the board, took one of her pawns and put his queen in its place, "F3-F7. Checkmate." 

"What! Already?" 

Cheryl looked at the board in dismay. No, there it was. He had sent his queen straight into the heart of her defences and had won the game in four moves. She was a little disappointed that he had beaten her so easily. 

"Oh," she said. 

Thomas could resist a chuckle, "I'm sorry, that was a bit mean. Another game? You can go first this time." 

She smiled back at him, "Why not," she replied. And they set the board up for another game. 

The second game lasted longer than the first, although the outcome was inevitable, Cheryl was quite pleased that she had managed not to fall into the traps he laid. And she also made sure that he didn't get her with that four move abomination this time round. But still ten minutes later she heard the inevitable words, "Checkmate. You know, you are quite good at this. I wish I'd been able to pick it up as fast as you did. One more" 

She glanced at her watch, "Actually, I'd better get back to work." 

Thomas made a theatrical sigh, "Ah well. It's a shame, I was just getting into it. Another game tomorrow?" 

Cheryl thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes. That would be lovely." 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

It was Friday and they had just finished their game. Thomas had won, of course. Whilst he was packing the board away he said, "You know, there's never enough time to get a decent game going at lunchtime. Dunno about you, but I find it difficult to concentrate in here." 

Cheryl grinned, "I know what you mean. I keep thinking about the time when I should be concentrating on the board." 

Thomas's eyes widened slightly as a thought struck him, "Hey! I know, why don't you come round to my place tonight. We could have a decent game." 

Immediately, Cheryl backed away, "Erm... No I don't think that would be a good idea." 

Thomas blushed and said, "Oh... Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just thought, you know, it might be nice to have a game in peace and quiet." 

Inside, Cheryl was scolding herself, Idiot, idiot, idiot! What are you doing? The first man to show any interest in you for God knows how long and you just cut him off like that! All he wants is a game of chess. Yeah, right! Just what are you so scared of, idiot? I know what he's after. Just like the rest of them. And when it all goes wrong, who picks up the pieces? Muggins, that's who. Men! More trouble than they're worth. Really? Yes! Really! Maybe he's different. I mean has he given you any inclination that he sees at you as a conquest? Well... Seeing as how you put it like that... No, he hasn't, we just play chess. So what makes you think that he wants anything more from you? More than you are prepared to give I mean? Nothing. So say yes, you bloody idiot. 

Cheryl came to her decision. She looked up at Thomas where he stood uncertainly. "Actually, I think it would be quite nice. Why not? What time shall I come over?" 

He grinned broadly, "Great! Seven thirty?" 

"Fine." 

"See you then." 

Thomas started to walk away when Cheryl called out, "Actually, there is one minor problem." 

He stopped and frowned slightly, turning back to her he asked, "What?" 

It was Cheryl's turn to grin, "I don't know where you live." 

Six o'clock found Cheryl stood in front of her bedroom mirror, holding dress after dress in front of herself. Each one was discarded as either to dressy, too tarty or too formal. She finally settled on a peasant skirt and simple white blouse. Before she put them on, she regarded her body in the mirror. Full, heavy breasts encased in a white cotton bra. Not particularly sexy, but that was not why she bought it. With large breasts like hers, she needed plenty of support. Her eye went down her reflection past her waist, a little thicker that she might like, to her broad, rounded hips. She was wearing panties that matched her bra. She let her gaze travel further down along the length of her legs. Shapely like the rest of her, through hard work in the gymnasium. 

"Not bad," she nodded to herself, "What are you thinking? You're going for a games evening not a date! But what if... Yes? What if he tries something? Well what if he does, he's just like all the rest and you'll be disappointed... Again! Yes, exactly, and then he'll be another voice over the coffee machine. Do you like him? Well do you? No, not like that... Yes... I don't know. But if he does try something, what do I do? Well, you won't know either way unless you go there and find out, will you?" 

Seven thirty found Cheryl knocking on the door of a semi-detached house in her own area of the town, she had been surprised that he lived so close to her, only five minutes walk away, in fact. 

He opened the door and said, "Hi, come in. The wine is chilling and the board's set up." 

He accepted her coat and hung it on a peg behind the front door, before leading her through to the living room. It was a well appointed room with a plush sofa and matching armchair. The chair had been moved around and a card table had been set up with an ornately carved chessboard and pieces. 

"Wow," she said admiring the set, "looks much to posh to play with." 

Thomas laughed and replied, "It was a present. I wouldn't have bought it myself. Drink?" 

"You said you had wine chilling?" 

"Yes, white or I have a bottle of red if you prefer." 

"No, white's fine thank you." 

Thomas poured two glasses and then invited Cheryl to sit in the chair before taking his seat on the sofa. He generously allowed Cheryl to play white and therefore have the first move. She didn't bother studying the board and quickly made her first move, "F2-F3" 

He grinned, "I see I won't be able to four-move you again." Cheryl said nothing but took a sip of her wine and waited for Thomas to make his own move. 

After five minutes or so, of silent play Thomas said, "This is fun. I love playing chess, but I don't get to do it as much as I'd like." 

Cheryl was forced to agree. It was fun and she was also beginning to settle down, it appeared that Thomas really did only want to play chess. Though for some unexplainable reason she felt a little deflated as well. She regarded him as he concentrated on the board. He had a habit of sticking the tip of his tongue from the corner of his mouth when he concentrated, she thought it was quite sweet, it made him look even younger. 

He moved his rook and said, "C5-D5 Check." 

Cheryl's thoughts immediately returned to the game. She was quite startled, "Where did that come from?" she thought to herself. She examined the board and then sighed. He had her. Damn! Her bishop that could have taken his rook was pinned, if she moved it then she would be in check from his queen. Her only option was to spring a desperate attack with a loose pawn that she had kept at her end of the board, but she knew it was too late, "C2-C4." 

Thomas moved his queen and took the bishop, "H3-F3. Check and..." he looked directly into her eyes, "Mate." 

His stare made her feel a little uncomfortable and she squirmed slightly in her seat. Then his grin returned and he said, "Fancy another game, or do you want to play something else?" 

The way he said set alarm bells off in her head, "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously. 

"Well, there are other games. I know you like word games... What about scrabble?" 

"Oh! Oh no, I'm fine playing chess for now." 

She could feel herself reddening as she spoke, embarrassed that she had read more into his question than was actually there. As she looked at him, his grin disappeared, he asked, "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing." 

"Yes there is. Have I said something to upset you?" 

"No!" Too sharp. She took a deep breath and continued, "No, honestly. I colour up sometimes, that's all." 

Thomas didn't seem convinced, his expression remained sceptical as he leaned back on the sofa and said, "Tell you what. Let's have a break and just chat for a while." He looked at her glass, "Refill?" 

Cheryl cursed herself inwardly at her display, but managed to whisper, "Yes please." 

After he topped up their glasses, Thomas took a sip and leaned back expansively, his eyes never leaving hers. 

"You know," he said, "I'm surprised that a woman like you would be here tonight." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well look at you. Beautiful, intelligent, well off, with a place of your own. I'm wondering why no one snapped you up ages ago. But here you are, sitting in my little house playing chess on a Friday night." 

Cheryl found herself unable to break the stare, his eyes, once sparkly now seemed darker and his expression was unreadable. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. She said nothing so he continued, "Why are you here Cheryl?" 


Not So Trivial Pursuit



"I... I just thought it might be fun." 

Thomas seemed unimpressed by her response, "I've been watching you, you know." 

She was alarmed now, "What do you mean?" 

A slight grin touched his lips, "No. Nothing weird I assure you. It's just, I've seen you at work. They call you the Ice Maiden, you know. Keeping everyone at a distance. And we've talked while we played chess. In the hours we've been together, you've never mentioned anything about your life." 

"That's because it's none of your business!" 

Thomas seemed not to hear her almost shouted answer. He said, "You like games don't you. Crosswords, chess. Why do you like games so much?" 

Cheryl felt like she was being mesmerised and found herself answering him, "Because... Because they don't screw me up. When they're done, they're done and I can put them away." 

His expression changed to one of concern, "Who was it Cheryl?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Who was it that hurt you so badly?" 

A tear began to form in her eye and she stood up sharply, "I think I should go!" 

Thomas didn't move from his place on the sofa, "Do you? I don't." 

As a look of fear entered Cheryl's face he continued quickly, "If you want to go, then I won't stop you. And if you want to stop playing chess at work then we'll stop. If you never want to speak to me again that's fine... No, that's not fine, I wouldn't like it, but I have never forced my attentions on a woman and I don't intend to start now. But I have something to say that might interest you?" 

"What is it?" 

"I've thought of a new game to play." 

Still a little suspicious Cheryl couldn't help but ask, "What is it?" 

"It's called Treasure Hunt." 

"How do you play?" 

Thomas took another sip of his wine and said, "Sit back down and I'll tell you." 

He refused to say any more, so Cheryl sat back down. 

His charming grin reasserted itself, "That's better. Right, the game. You will receive a series of clues. The first one will arrive in the next few days. All you have to do is solve the clues, take a few tests and then receive the prize, but only if you solve all of the clues." 

"What's the prize?" 

"Well now. That's the interesting thing. The prize could be anything, it could be your greatest wish or your deepest disappointment. It's entirely up to you." 

"That doesn't make any sense!" 

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, "I can see how you might think so, but you'll have to trust me on this. Also, there are some rules to the game." 

Intrigued at this turn of event Cheryl said, "Okay. Let's hear them." 

"You will think of a word. It must be a word that is not in every day use." 

"Then what?" 

"If at any point you say the word, the game stops. Right there. End of chat." 

"Seems fair." 

"But you must be careful. Once stopped the game is over permanently. No second attempt and no chance for the prize." 

"Fine. Anything else?" 

"You must not tell anyone about the game. No one is allowed to help you solve any of the clues. Otherwise it wouldn't be fair." 

"That's silly. Even with some of the easier crosswords I do, I sometimes need to look things up." 

"Reference manuals are allowed. What I meant was, no one else must help you with the clues. Any legitimate source that you would normally use is open to you... I'm not entirely heartless." 

Cheryl sat silently as she went over the conversation in her mind. This, she had not been expecting! A quite games evening, perhaps. That he might try to get romantic in some way, maybe. But this? Never. What was he up to? What was going on in the brain behind that poker face? Eventually, she spoke, "This is rather bizarre, you know that don't you?" 

Thomas laughed out loud and instantly changed back into the affable man of earlier in the evening, "Yes it does rather," he agreed, "But are you willing to go for it?" 

"I don't know. I'd have to think about it." 

"Well you don't have to make any decisions now. I'm not going to rush you into anything. When you get the first clue, if you solve it and send the answer then I'll know you're up for it. If you don't... We'll just go back to how things were, chess at lunch times... or not. Whatever. It is entirely up to you." 

"Promise?" 

Thomas held his hand to his chest and said, "Scout's honour. But I hope you do decide to play. It will be quite an intellectual exercise and very stimulating, I think." He indicated the board, "Tell you what, let's have another game of chess and finish this bottle. It's opened now and I couldn't drink it all by myself." 

Cheryl agreed, but didn't play very well for the remainder of the evening. Her mind kept going over his words, "your greatest wish or your deepest disappointment." What had he meant by that? 

All weekend Cheryl pondered the events of Friday evening. She shivered slightly as she recalled the way he had changed from friendly to sinister and back again. Looking back in detail, she could find no evidence of anything threatening, but all the same it was a little strange. 

And she still didn't know what he had meant about the prize being her greatest wish or her deepest disappointment. But she was interested. It did, on the surface sound like fun and it could be intellectually challenging, but she really wished she knew what he was up to. 

Monday came and once again Cheryl found herself in the canteen at lunch. Thomas was not there. She was a little disappointed, she really did look forward to the chess, so with a small sigh she settled at her usual table and pulled the Times from her bag. She opened the paper and found the crossword page. What she saw startled her. A small envelope had been taped over the crossword. It had the words 'Opening Gambit' typed on it. She pulled the envelope away from the page and ripped it open. Inside was a small piece of paper with a short message on it. It read: 

'One is you and one is me. One forgotten that is thee. Names be names and truths be true, What this is be me and you. (8, 6, 2, 5) - If you wish to play then send your answer along with your 'stop word' to the email address below.' 

She glanced at the foot of the page. It was not an address she knew. Cheryl stared at the message, nothing leapt out at her. It seemed to be nothing more than a meaningless piece of doggerel, and a very poor attempt at that. But is must mean something. Obviously the answer was four words. Eight, six, two and five letters. 

Cheryl pushed her newspaper back into her bag and concentrated on the clue. 

"One is you and one is me..." she mused and scribbled the names Cheryl and Thomas on the paper. 

"No good. Both six letters, anyway that's too easy. And what have I forgotten?" The first part didn't mean anything yet, so she started on the second verse, "Names be names and truths be true, what this is be me and you." 

Cheryl winced at the scansion. It limped. But then again, it wasn't meant to win the Nobel prize for literature, it was just a clue. 

"Right. Names... Truths... True names? Hidden names. Didn't there used to be a people that had two names? One secret and one for everyday use? Names had power, so no one was allowed to know their true name. No. That's too far fetched." Anyway, if the name was secret, she had no way of finding it out, "Oh hang on! Names be names and truths be true. Names mean something. All names mean something. So she had to find out what the meaning was behind hers and Thomas' names." 

Cheryl picked up her bag and hurried back to her desk. Once she sat down she unlocked her computer and went onto the internet. A quick search and she found a website she wanted. 

"Bless the web, the all knowing," she intoned. 

She typed in her own name and pressed an onscreen button. Two seconds later a new page appeared. There was a fancy box with her name picked out in illuminated script and a short message below that which read; 

'Cheryl: Feminine - Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee: because he trusteth in thee. Isaiah 26:3.' 

There was also an exhortation to buy the printed version of the screen display on luxury vellum, framed and yours to keep for the bargain price of £17.99. Cheryl ignored that and scribbled the word feminine on her note, "Eight letters. Well what do you know?" 

Pressing the back button returned her to the initial screen and she erased her name and typed Thomas. Click and then the second screen reappeared with the new message; 

'Thomas: Seeker of Truth - Let not mercy and truth forsake thee: bind them about thy neck: write them upon the table of thine heart. Proverbs 3:3.' 

"Seeker of Truth. Six, two, five." 

This too was written on the note. Automatically, she found herself opening her email facility and typed, 'Feminine, Seeker of Truth. Stop word=logographer.' 

She was just about to send the message when she thought about the clue again. One forgotten that is thee. What was he implying by that? She had forgotten she was feminine? Cheeky! And his own name meant seeker of truth. Just what was he trying to say? 

Whatever insult or implications she had read into the clue, whether they existed or not, she had to admit it looked like it might be fun, if only his poetry improved. She made her decision, pressed send and that was that. She was committed. 

The afternoon dragged just a little. As she sat at her desk, every time she heard the tell tale beep of a new message in her in box she hoped it was the next clue. But it never was, until just as she was about to close down her system, a new message arrived. She scanned down and saw that it was a reply from the unknown address. Quickly opening it, she read; 

'Well done. That was fast. I like your stop word by the way, very apt. I shall have to make the clues more difficult from now on. This is the first 'proper' clue: Pace child ruined without police and don't break the oath. Dry one for Davy nearby (8). When you have located the next clue you may Ali Baba's key useful.' 

Cheryl blew out heavily when she read the message. He wasn't kidding about making them harder. She wanted to get home and think about it, so she printed the email, closed the system down and left the building. 

Once home, she made her usual cup of tea and settled on her sofa to study the clue. It was a standard two-part clue that much was obvious. It had an anagram indicator which was the word ruined, so the answer should be an anagram of pace child... clip H aced? No... laced chip? Don't be stupid woman! Wait! Without police. Okay lose CID and you're left with L, A, E, C, H, P. Only one word there... Chapel. Okay 'and don't break the oath' Chapel promise... Chapel pledge... Chapel guarantee... That doesn't make any sense. Think woman! Christ, this is hard! Wait a minute, Chapel. St something? Possibly, but what? 

Cheryl could feel a niggle at the back of her mind. She was missing something... Oath. Broken oath, swear. Saint. Patron saint? Then she had it. The patron saint of oaths! Chapel of the patron saint of oaths. Of course! But who was the patron saint of oaths? Were there any Chapels nearby? The game was called treasure hunt after all. Thomas wouldn't put anything out of her reach, at least she hoped not. 

Cheryl pulled the directory from the small telephone table in the corner and thumbed through it until she found the list of local churches and chapels. There was one church and two chapels. The church was discounted immediately. One chapel was called 'Chapel of St Jerome' and the other was 'Chapel of St. Pancras.' 

That narrowed it down, at least she hoped so. She dug out her encyclopaedia and looked up St Jerome. The entry said; 

'Jerome Emiliani; Also known as Geronimo, Gerolamo Miani - Patron saint of abandoned people and orphans.' 

No, she then looked up the entry for St Pancras, which read; 

'Pancras; Also known as Pancritas, Pancratius - Patron saint against false witness, against perjury, children, cramps, headaches, oaths, treaties.' 

She was elated and punched the air, "Yesss! And still the world champeen! So St. Pancras is the patron saint of oaths. Who'd of thunk?" 

She soon settled down, and looked at the rest of the clue. 'Dry one for Davy nearby.' Cheryl ignored the bracketed number eight for the moment. Normally just an indicator of word length, she didn't think so this time. She suspected that it would mean something else. Still 'dry one for Davy nearby.' This one was fairly simple, it would be a locker or cupboard... No, a locker. Davy Jones Locker the final resting place of drowned sailors and a dry one meant that somewhere near the Chapel of St Pancras would be a locker. Number eight in fact, she was sure of it. 

Excited and unable to wait, Cheryl threw her coat on and made her way to the Chapel. She parked her car outside and looked up and down the street. Here was the chapel next door was a bookmakers, then a tatty shop with windows full of bric-a-brac. But no lockers, at least none that she could see. The other side of the chapel and the opposite street was just private houses. No help there. It had to be one the businesses. 

Cheryl wandered past the bookmakers, the window was painted out. She never knew why they did that, after all what could be going on that would make people want to avert their gaze. She continued to the junk shop and peered through the window. Shelf after shelf piled high with items for sale that on the whole, she couldn't understand anyone wanting to buy. A glance at the opening times and then her watch told her that she had a few minutes before closing, so she went inside. 

A bell above the door gave a sad tinkle as she closed it behind her and a voice said, "Can I help you Dear?" 

An ancient woman stood up behind a tatty counter in the corner and smiled toothlessly. 

"I'm just having a look round if that's okay?" 

"Of course Dear, but I'm closing in fifteen minutes." 

Cheryl wandered between the tightly packed shelves and stared at the goods for sale. Nothing. Back and forth she wandered until she was stood next to the counter where the old woman sat knitting. 

"See anything you like?" 

"Actually... This might sound strange, but do you have any lockers?" 

"Only the storage lockers out the back." 

"Would it... Would it be possible to look at them please?" 

"Whatever for?" 

Cheryl giggled nervously, "Well, this will probably sound strange, but I'm playing a game. I had to solve a clue and it led me here. I need to find a locker, probably number eight and I thought it might mean one of your storage lockers." 

The old woman put her knitting to one side and stood up, "Follow me Dear." 

Cheryl found herself stood next to the old woman in the dingy rear area of the shop. One wall was covered floor to ceiling with pull-down lockers, each one numbered with a small stencil in the corner. She glanced at the old woman who was waiting expectantly. 

"Could I have a look?" 

"Not without the key Dear. He was most insistent on that." 

"Who was?" 

"The young man who left the message." 

Cheryl thought about her clue. Oh no! Somewhat self-consciously she said, "Open Sesame." 

The old lady clapped her hands, "Oh jolly well done. Open it Dear, it's not locked." 

Cheryl pulled the locker door open and saw that it was full of more of the same junk that filled the shelves. But sat in front of the rubbish was a small white envelope with the words 'Seminar' written on it. She quickly snatched the envelope and opened it. Inside was a note which read, 'Seminar on Woman and Lepidoptera (The aptness of names). The Station Hotel, room number 5 Wednesday 7 P.M. The reception will be expecting you under the name Miss Weiblich.' 

"Weiblich? Sounds German," thought Cheryl. She thrust the envelope into her coat pocket and thanking the old woman, left the shop and returned home. 

Once back in her flat, Cheryl studied the note again. So she had to go to a hotel room for a seminar on woman and lepidoptera, woman and butterflies, what was this about? But in a hotel room, suspicious. She wasn't sure she liked that idea at all and all her old doubts were returning. He wanted to get her alone in the hotel and have his wicked way. The more she thought about it, the more the idea warmed her, but she couldn't. It wasn't her, it was scary and Cheryl was beginning to think that he would be like all the rest, even after this little game. No, this was too fast, she couldn't go. She decided that when she saw him at work tomorrow, she would call it off, she would use the stop word. 

As she lay in bed that night, Cheryl found herself unable to sleep. The thought of going to the hotel went round and round in her mind. She didn't know him, not really. One minute he seemed totally open and friendly, the next he had a predatory air about him that was both frightening and attractive. She wanted to... No, she didn't. She wasn't sure anymore. Once the wonderful ideal of saving herself for Mr Right had seemed so noble and romantic, but now it seemed so sad. She wasn't so sure any more, but it had been so long that any man had taken any real interest in her, she didn't know how to go about making herself available... If she wanted to, she still didn't know if she did or not. 

The more she thought about it, the warmer she became. Cheryl imagined what could happen in the hotel room and felt warmer still. Even though she was a virgin, she wasn't totally ignorant. The thought of being with him, letting him touch her intimately, making love with her was turning her on. Her nipples were getting harder as she lay there, unconsciously, a hand went to her breast and gently massaged the soft flesh, she let her fingers pinch and pull at her nipple through the material of her bra, luxuriating as the tingling sensations grew. A fire was starting and she could feel her pussy beginning to moisten. 

Slowly her other hand stroked her stomach, each time moving lower and lower, Cheryl revelled in the bitter-sweet anticipation as she teased her own body, gentle spasms started in her belly as another blaze was lit. She couldn't help but moan as her soft fingers finally made contact with her pussy through the material of her panties. Quickly sliding her hand under her waistband, she let her searching finger touch her soft, puffy vagina whilst her other hand remained busy stimulating her aching nipples. 

Gently she circled her clit and let her finger slide down and then back up her lower lips to circle her clit once more. Cheryl was moaning louder now, a pulsing sensation started in her pussy. Her juices were flowing freely from her hole as she worked her fingers round and round her hooded button. She rolled her hips from side to side as she struggled with the heat and pleasure she was giving herself. For a moment, she imagined that it was not her own hands, but Thomas who was pleasuring her and she exploded. 

A wave of joy flowed through her womb and left her gasping for breath. She clutched at her hot breast flesh and pressed her other hand hard against the outside of her pussy, her fingers now soaked in her own secretions. 

"Wow! That was the best." 

And then, she was strangely troubled. She had masturbated many times before, but never had she risen to quite the height that she had this time. She had climaxed when she thought about Thomas. Did she want him? She didn't know. But then again... 

"I do. I do want him." 

Cheryl decided that she would go to the hotel, no matter what lay in store. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

It was mid morning the next day and Cheryl found herself in the library reference section. She found an English/German dictionary and looked up the word 'Weiblich' it meant feminine. She chuckled to herself, what else would it have meant. 

At lunchtime she was back at work and walking into the canteen. There was Thomas sat at 'their' table with the chess board in front of him. Suddenly all her resolve from the night before left her. He looked up, smiled and waved her across. Cheryl's hands felt like lead weights at the ends of her arms and there was a series of involuntary shivers up and down her spine as she crossed the room. Unspeaking, she sat down. 




Not So Trivial Pursuit



"Hi Cheryl, fancy a game?" 

Cheryl finally found her voice and said, "I don't know." 

Thomas watched her closely and whispered, "Are you frightened?" 

"Yes." 

He reached out and took her unresisting hand in his own. The warmth of his fingers was surprising. Thomas gazed deep into her eyes and replied, "There's no need. I won't hurt you Cheryl. This is a game, nothing more. You can stop at any time, all you do is say the word." 

She could feel his index finger stroking the back of her hand as he spoke, it was sensuous and at the same time soothing. Cheryl remained silent. 

"Do you want to say the word?" 

Cheryl didn't answer his question, but said instead, "I thought about you last night." 

"Oh?" 

A tear came unbidden to her eye, "I'm so scared." 

"What of?" 

"That you'll hurt me." 

"Hear me Cheryl Hardacre, I will never hurt you. What happens during the game happens, but I will never hurt you. You have control, you can stop at any time... Remember your name and remember mine, that's all I ask." 

With that, Thomas let go of her hand and stood up. He collected his chess set and started to walk away, changed his mind and said, "If you don't go to the seminar I'll understand, but I really hope you do." 

Then he walked away leaving Cheryl staring at him as he left the canteen. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Thomas was sat in the darkened hotel room on the bed. He had placed a chair in the middle of the room with a standing lamp just behind it, making a cone of light around the chair. There was a tentative knock at the door. He looked at his watch, it was five minutes past seven. 

"Come in Cheryl," he called. 

The door opened and Cheryl came into the room, she looked very nervous. 

"You're late." 

"Sorry, I had trouble parking." 

"Never mind, please sit down." 

Thomas watched as she crossed to the chair and sat down, she was wearing her normal skirt and white blouse and her hair was in its usual French plait. 

As Cheryl sat in the chair, stiff and in obvious discomfort, Thomas said, "I'm very glad you came tonight, I hope you get a lot out of this seminar." 

She didn't reply. 

Thomas said, "Let your hair down." 

Uncertain, Cheryl hesitated and then pulled the grip from her hair and shook her head letting it fall to its full length, halfway down her spine. She ran her fingers through it as she moved to stop it from flying everywhere. 

Thomas said, "Much better. Much more... weiblich." 

A shy smile touched Cheryl's lips and then she asked, "So what's the seminar about." 

"You already know. Woman, lepidoptera and the aptness of names." 

He threw a small piece of cloth to her and it landed on her lap. It was a blindfold. 

Quietly he said, "Put it on." 

Cheryl looked directly at him for the first time. She could just make out his shape in the darkness of the room, but made no move to put the blindfold on. 

"Why don't you put it on Cheryl? Don't you trust me?" 

"I don't know you." 

"But you'd like to." 

"I... I don't know. This is all so strange... I don't know what I want." 

"Are you going to say your word?" 

"Maybe." 

"No maybe's. Yes or no!" 

"I don't know." 

She heard him sigh before he responded, "Okay, no problem. Let's just see how you feel. But the seminar can't start until you put the blindfold on." 

There was a heavy silence in the room as Cheryl debated what to do in her mind. He said that she had control, she could stop it if she wanted at any time. But how could she trust him, how could she know that he wouldn't hurt her? She didn't. But still... the climax she had enjoyed last night just thinking about him was something, wasn't it? Maybe he wouldn't be like the others. She decided that... for the moment... she would go along with the evening. 

Thomas smiled gently as she placed the blindfold over her eyes and tied it securely around her head. Then she placed her hands back on her lap. 

He came silently to his feet and started to talk in a businesslike tone, "Women and Lepidoptera. What do we mean by that? Lepidoptera, or butterflies are known to be light, gentle creatures. One of the few insects in the world to promote good feelings rather than revulsion when we see them. Strange isn't it? The only real difference between a butterfly and a dung beetle is in our perception." 

He moved to stand directly behind her chair as he spoke, his hand reached out and started to stroke her long hair. Thomas marvelled at how soft it was, "Women like butterflies. The sensations that the touch of a butterfly on their skin promote is one that they enjoy. Men and dogs, women and butterflies." 

Cheryl could feel his strong fingers playing with her hair as he spoke, it felt wonderful, occasionally his fingers touched her back as he moved his hand and the sudden and unexpected pressure sent tingles down her spine. 

She murmured, "What do you mean men and dogs?" 

Thomas smiled, "Women like to be touched lightly, stroked, gently toyed with. Men on the other hand see the best sex in a more... canine fashion." 

"What?" 

"Lots of slobber and plenty of licking." 

In spite of the moment, Cheryl couldn't help but giggle. 

"Good. You're laughing. Laughter loosens the muscles and relaxes the inhibitions." 

The stroking stopped and Cheryl was left with a strange feeling of dissatisfaction. Then a voice in her ear whispered, "Let me show you what I mean about women and butterflies." 

Something soft touched her cheek, it felt like the tip of a downy feather. It moved in small circles all over the skin of her face, her forehead, her nose, lips and chin. It felt fantastic. Her lips parted involuntarily as it slid down to the side of her neck, causing new and fascinating sensations. Then it stopped abruptly and Thomas whispered in her ear, "Why are you so unhappy?" 

"What?" 

"Why are you so unhappy Cheryl?" 

"I'm not." 

"You're lying. I can tell. What happened to make you so unhappy?" 

The feather started again on her forehead, it traced the arches of her eyebrows and then travelled down the bridge of her nose, back over her cheek and down to the front of her throat. 

"I wish you'd tell me. Maybe I could help." 

She thought back to when she had found her fiancé in bed with her friend. And against her better judgement, Cheryl found herself telling Thomas about it. Everything. The pain, the humiliation, everything. 

The feather stopped once more. Cheryl felt Thomas take her wrist gently and undo her cuff. 

"What are you doing Thomas?" she asked warily. 

He pushed her sleeve up past her elbow and replaced her hand on her lap before replying, "Just getting ready for the next part of the seminar." 

Cheryl was amazed at herself, here she was in a hotel room, blindfolded with a man she barely knew and she was letting him undress her. Well not undress, all he had done was to bare her arm, but it felt like undressing. She felt naked before him, unable to resist answering his intrusive questions. 

She jerked slightly as she felt his fingers land softly on her bared forearm. It felt like a spider had landed there, then he started to move his fingers in small circular motions, much like he had done with the feather. The teasing of her skin raised goose-bumps as new and wonderful sensations shot up her arm and attacked the pleasure centres of her brain. She couldn't believe just how good his touch felt. Yet again, she began to shiver. She could feel her breath getting shallower and heat was building, the same heat the she had felt the night before. His fingers moved up her arm, slowly over the bunched sleeve, up to her shoulder, over her collar and onto her throat. Still they moved in their small circles, dancing lightly and emitting new shards of wonderful delight wherever they touched her. 

She felt her top button being undone. Cheryl stiffened slightly, but Thomas whispered, "Don't worry. Nothing will happen that you do not want to happen. Relax, relax and enjoy." 

Still uncertain, Cheryl forced herself to settle down. He was so gentle. So tender that she really didn't want this to stop... not yet. The next button opened, then the next. She felt her blouse being tugged open and as the cool air touched her chest, she knew that she was on display to him, but the heat in her breast and the feelings that were aroused by his soft stroking made her stay her hand and remain seated. His fingers travelled down from her throat and moved over the tops of her breasts and then back up to her throat, only to begin the journey once more. 

"Are you a virgin Cheryl?" 

Another tear, "Yes." 

"Do you want to be?" 

"I don't know." 

The fingers continued to work over her skin leaving trails of warmth as they moved. She was waiting for him to touch her heavy breasts encased in the white cotton bra, but they never did, merely travelling from throat to nearly touch them and back again. 

Thomas repeated his question. 

"I DON'T KNOW!" 

"Are you frightened?" 

"Yes." 

Nothing further was said for a moment. The hand left her upper body and started to dance on the soft, white skin of her stomach. Thomas was carefully avoiding any of the usual female erogenous zones. She felt a spasm in her stomach muscles as the spidery dance played over her belly. It was so exciting, his unseen touch. 

"Are you saving yourself?" 

"I once thought so." 

"What for? What were you saving yourself for?" 

"I... I wanted to be a virgin on my wedding night." 

"Why?" 

Cheryl found it difficult to concentrate on the questions as she struggled to contain her excitement at the feather light fingering of her flesh, but she managed to answer, "I thought it was romantic." 

"And now?" 

"I don't know." 

"So, what do you want?" 

"I've told you. I don't know. Sometimes I want to let a man take me to bed and do all the things I've read about..." 

"And?" 

"And then I get frightened. What if it hurts? What if he lets me down like my fiancé did? I'd feel cheep. Like I'd thrown it away." 

Even through the wonderful sensations that Thomas was producing, Cheryl found herself crying openly as she spoke, "What if it's not like I imagined it to be? I've heard the men at work talking about their conquests. How tawdry they make it sound. And I see how little respect they have for the women they've been with. I... I don't want anyone to talk about me like that!" 

The stroking stopped. 

"Are you scared that you might want to lose your virginity with me? That I might treat you like that afterwards?" 

Barely audible, Cheryl replied, "Yes." 

She felt his arms enclose her and his cheek pressed against hers, "Don't worry Cheryl. Don't be scared, I will never hurt you in any way. As far as you want to go, we will go and no further." 

He waited a while, just holding her and stroking her hair until she calmed down a little before he asked, "Do you want this to stop now?" 

Cheryl shivered slightly and answered, "No." 

Her lips parted as she felt his fingers stroke lightly over her stomach.

"Are you sure? You can end the game whenever you want." 

"No. I want to play. Just..." 

"Just what?" 

"Promise me. Promise me you won't hurt me." 

"I've told you. I will never hurt you." 

Thomas moved his hand to her calf and started his gentle, circular caresses once more, sliding slowly up to her knee. As he moved, her skirt rode up, baring her thighs to his view. White and soft as silk was her skin. He could feel himself getting more and more excited as he continued his lazy way onto her inner thigh. 

Cheryl moaned deep in her throat as she felt his hands nearing her womanhood. She was nervous, would he touch her there. She wanted him to and at the same time, she did not. She was still scared, even after all of his assurances to the contrary. 

Over the top of her thighs he touched, and stroked. Then she felt the unexpected touch of his lips against her own. A feather light kiss, so quick she wasn't really sure if it had happened. It happened again, her lips tingled. She found herself hoping that he would kiss her again, her wish soon came true. No quick kiss this time though, he pressed his lips to hers and held them there. She returned the kiss with fervour. Slipping her tongue into his mouth, she moaned as his tongue began to battle fervently with hers, the warmth was rising in her chest once more and she could feel her nipples like bullets pressing against the tight cotton of her bra. As they kissed, the blindfold slid from her head and landed on the floor. 

An unexpected attack. His hand rubbed the front of her panties and Cheryl bucked as a dagger of pleasure stabbed directly into her womb. Gently, Thomas slipped a finger inside the leg of her panties and for the first time in her life, someone other than her self was stroking her clitoris. She could feel her pussy was soaking and ready like never before. The sensations he was arousing in her belly were burning her up. Pulse after pulse attacked her aching pussy and she felt like she never had before. Under his talented stroking, it wasn't long before an orgasm broke inside her and washed through her body like a flow of lava. 

Cheryl was gasping for breath and had to break the kiss so she could breathe again. Slowly, slowly she regained her senses and stared into Thomas' eyes. 

She whispered, "Love me." 

He answered, "I do." 

Cheryl smiled and started to kiss him again, but to her surprise, he broke off and stood up. 

Confused she spluttered, "What? What's the matter?" 

"I love you. That's what's the matter." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Look... I'm sorry, this was meant to be a game. When it started out it was a game, but now..." 

"I don't understand." 

"It's not a game. This is real life." 

Tears welled up in Cheryl's eyes, "Oh no! Oh no! It's me isn't it? It's happening again." 

Thomas knelt down and took the crying woman in his arms, held her close and whispered, "No. It's not you. It's me... Look, when I started the game it was supposed to be a bit of fun. I wanted to see if you really were the Ice Maiden, that everyone said you were. So I devised the game. Look what happened, you turned out to be smart, quick, beautiful, sexy, vulnerable and loving. And I could see that you were feminine, the most feminine woman I've ever met. At first I thought your name meaning feminine was a lucky coincidence for the game. But now I don't think so, I think the fates named you truly. Just like they did for me. I found a truth all right, I found the truth that I love you. That's what caused the problem, I don't want to play any more. I don't want to use you... I love you too much to do that." 

"But I want you to. I want you to make love to me. My virginity isn't a blessing, it's a curse and I want to lose it with you." 

"But I won't take it... Not like this." 

"Then how?" 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Thomas lay in the bed, he was naked under the thin duvet. A door opened and Cheryl stood nervously in the frame, she was wearing a matching set of sheer, silk underwear in a delicate shade of blue. 

Shyly, she said, "Well?" 

He was unable to tear his gaze from the vision before him, "Well what?" 

"How do I look?" 

Unable to keep a throb from his voice, he replied, "Weiblich." 

Cheryl smiled and slowly crossed the room to lie next to him on the bed. He could see her hands were shaking slightly and her face still held an expression of nervousness. 

He bent down and placed a hand on her chin before placing a light kiss on her lips. Hesitantly, Cheryl's hand also came up to reach around and hold the back of his neck. The kiss deepened and their tongues touched through slightly parted lips. As the kiss continued, Cheryl felt his hand move from her chin to the side of her neck and on to her shoulder. The strap of her bra was moved gently over the curve and on to her upper arm. The hand moved again, it slid down her arm to her elbow and on to her side. Cheryl couldn't help but shiver, not with fear, but with anticipation. 

The strong, but gentle hand moved once more. It slid round her back and deftly released the clip that held her bra in place, letting the soft material loosen. She could feel a trail of warmth wherever the gentle fingers stroked her skin, back round her ribcage, up her side and onto her newly released breasts, heavy and warm. 

When his fingers reached her nipple, he gently rubbed it and felt it harden under his skilled touch. Cheryl moaned into his mouth as they still shared their lingering kiss. 

Carefully, Thomas disengaged from her and leaned back so that he could remove the wispy bra completely and gaze for the first time at Cheryl's large beautiful breasts. They were perfect. Large, shapely, soft yet firm with dark cherry red nipples that were hard and crinkled with excitement and expectation. 

He murmured, "Weiblich," before taking a firm hold of one of them and kneading the warm flesh. He moved his face closer to her chest. 

When Cheryl felt his hot breath skim over her nipple, she closed her eyes and moaned once more. When she felt his tongue flick out and lash at the engorged confection, she groaned. The dart of pleasure that shot through her was almost unbelievable. Her hands came up and cradled his head as she wallowed in the sensations he was giving her. The warmth was spreading from her aching nipples and filled her mounds. 

But more delights were to come. Whilst Thomas played with her mammaries with his bust lips and tongue, his fingers began a slow journey down her body towards the centre of her womanhood. He ran a finger lightly along the waistband of Cheryl's panties causing another dart of joy to attack her system. Her hips bucked slightly and she could feel another fire being built inside her, but this one was in her womb. Her pussy felt hot and wet, even more so when his fingers slipped under her waistband and snaked through her patch of jet-black pubic hair to her engorged pussy. 

When his fingers reached their target, Thomas stroked up and down the length of her lower lips, delighting in the moist heat that emanated from them, then he placed three fingers directly over her pussy and started to make slow gentle circles that grazed the top of her hard clitoris. 

This new assault on her senses made Cheryl almost scream with joy. She felt one finger slide between her pussy lips as Thomas moved his hand and slip straight up her boiling channel. 

"Oh Godogodogod!" 

And still the pleasure mounted, his mouth lashing at her nipple whilst his hand played with her other breast and his other hand working on her tortured pussy, gently frigging her clit as his finger slid in and out, loosening her for the bigger intruder to come. 

Thomas pulled away again and knelt up on the bed, he grasped her panties and rolled them down her legs, throwing them over his shoulder when they were free. He gazed down at the woman below him, she was so beautiful he almost had to pinch himself to make sure she wasn't a dream. 

And Cheryl looked back up at him. Her eyes were from his toned upper body down to his erect penis that jutted seven inches from his groin. Her mouth watered as she looked at it, but at the same time she felt a little panicked at the size. She didn't think that something so huge would ever fit inside her. 

She stiffened slightly when she felt his hands part her thighs and he shuffled over so that he was kneeling between her legs. He saw a look of apprehension in her eyes and murmured, "Don't be scared... I will never hurt you." 

Reassured somewhat, Cheryl managed to relax a little, but tensed once more when Thomas moved his body closer to hers and taking his weight on his elbows placed the head of his hard cock at her hot entrance. He nuzzled against her neck murmuring, "Relax... just relax." 




Not So Trivial Pursuit



As she felt the head of his cock nudge against her sopping pussy another jolt shot through her. She felt him push a little further and an inch of his meaty length was inside her. Her vaginal lips had opened to receive him and she could feel them gripping at the hot intruder. Another push, another jolt, a little discomfort but the new sensations of pleasure were making up for that. 

Cheryl gripped his sides tightly with her hands as she felt the intrusion continue and meet a barrier. The barrier, her virginity. Thomas pulled out slightly and then pushed back in, and out, and in back to the barrier. She was melting beneath him and her womanly lubrication was flooding from her pussy, coating the end of his prick in its sticky sweetness. 

She felt him pull back once more and then push forward, but this time he wasn't stopping. He reached her maidenhead, there was a sharp pain and then he was inside her, fully embedded in her hot tight pussy. 

"Jesus," he moaned, "You're so tight." 

Cheryl couldn't speak, the feeling of fullness in her belly was beyond anything she had ever experienced before. With staring eyes she could only nod at him when he asked, "Are you ready?" 

He withdrew almost all the way out of her channel and slowly slid back in to the hilt, the air was forced from her lungs with the sheer unadulterated bliss that she was feeling now. Cheryl was having trouble breathing, she could breath in but not out, as every time Thomas made an inward stroke a fresh wave of white hot bliss broke inside her womb. 

Thomas got into a slow rhythm, gently sliding his pole in and out, revelling in the soaking tightness that enveloped his hard cock. He could feel his passions rising and he knew that his climax was not far away, so faster he pounded into her, faster, faster. Each meeting of their pubic bones making a slapping sound and causing another gasp to erupt from Cheryl's mouth as his groin mashed against her aching clitoris sending even more tactile delights into her already overloading system. 

The waves were bigger now, stronger and getting more powerful every time. She felt him stiffen and Thomas gave out a sharp cry as he slammed his cock into her hard and held himself rigid as he pumped stream after stream of hot, white come straight at her cervix. 

The sensation of his fluid shooting into her womb was all it needed to send Cheryl up to the heights of pure, naked joy that she had never known before. The orgasm, when it hit was like every orgasm she had ever given herself rolled into one and then dropped on her without mercy. 

Her eyes closed and her mouth opened with a loud piercing scream, as white hot needles shot from her belly and filled her body from head to toe. She couldn't stand it, it was too much. The sensations were melting her from the inside out, and still she screamed. 

After a hundred years the waves began to ebb and die down. Able to breathe again, Cheryl finally opened her eyes to look at Thomas as he gazed down at her. His now softening cock, still embedded deep inside her. 

"Oh Tom. Oh God!" 

She pulled him into a fierce embrace and then without warning, she began to cry. 

He gently pulled his cock from her gaping pussy and shuffled over her leg so that he could lie beside her and return the embrace properly, whispering meaningless noises to soothe her until the weeping stopped and Cheryl lay silent and content. 

They lay there for a while just holding each other and basking in their new found intimacy until Cheryl snuggled even closer to Thomas if that were possible, rested her head on his chest and gazed at the gold band adorning the third finger of her left hand. She smiled lazily and whispered, "You know what?" 

"Hmm? What?" 

"I think I got both prizes in one." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, I got my greatest wish. I lost my virginity to the man I love on my wedding night." 

"Yes?" 

"And I also got my deepest disappointment as well." 

Thomas opened his eyes and looked down at her quizzically, "What do you mean?" 

She giggled and replied, "I'm so disappointed that I didn't meet you years ago."