… CONTINUED
I hadn’t seen Julie for a while, so when a book she’d ordered from Amazon arrived and the postman asked if I’d take it in I readily agreed, thinking she’d probably collect it later. When she failed to appear that night, I decided to drop it over.
The following evening, after I’d finished my meal, washed and dried the plates and tackled some work I’d brought home, I remembered the book, so went across the road to deliver it. Julie’s flatmate Gail answered the door.
“Oh, Julie’s away for a few days,” she said on seeing the parcel. “Come in.” We sat down and she explained that someone at her company’s other branch had been out sick, and Julie had volunteered to fill in. “She’ll be back by the weekend. So how are you and your girlfriend, um … oh, remind me, what is her name?”
“She hasn’t got a name,” I said. “Lynda and I split up again about three weeks ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Still, nice good-looking young chap like you won’t be on your own for long. Our Julie seems quite keen.” I didn’t say anything, but was sure it was my increasing closeness to Julie that had hastened Lynda’s departure. I was also a bit puzzled that Gail had called me ‘young.’ She could only have been a year or two older than me, surely?
“I understand that you’re as much of a general knowledge buff as she is.”
“Well I do enjoy the odd quiz.”
“It’s that one I’m told you like the most.” Sitting under the coffee table was a familiar Trivial Pursuit box. How much had Julie told her?
“She also said you had a more interesting way of playing it, although she went a bit shy when I asked for the details. Can you explain it to me?”
“Er, well, umm …”
“Better idea, I’ve got the evening free. If you have too, we can just play it and you can explain it as we go.”
I took a good look at Gail. She was very tall, about five foot nine or ten, with a little more meat on than I like my women to have, but she was very well spoken, always smartly dressed and was the proud possessor of a majestic mane of auburn hair. Her brown eyes compared nicely with Lynda’s pale blue, and Julie’s dark green ones, and were framed by graceful brows not quite hidden under her fringe. She actually had a really pretty face, with a small, neat nose, straight white teeth and lips so dark they didn’t need lipstick. I couldn’t think why I hadn’t noticed her before; certainly the idea of getting her naked appealed. Also, she didn’t look like she was wearing much at the moment. She had no shoes on and I was pretty sure she was braless. I found myself wondering if she was knickerless too, and were we therefore heading for a short game?
I said, “OK,” and went on to explain all the rules we had worked out so far. She didn’t flinch when I mentioned that removal of clothing would be involved, and even had a good laugh at the rule that said you couldn’t creep away and add extra layers. Looking at her, there would certainly have been some scope for that.
She fetched the rather worn-looking box, opened it and assembled the board, circles, cheeses and cards on the coffee table.
“That looks like it’s seen some use,” I observed.
“Well I’m sure you know how much Julie loves ‘Triv’ as she calls it. And when she moved in here, she got me hooked too. And it is very old, but that’s all right – you just need to forget anything after about 1987.” She had a sense of humour too, this evening was getting better and better. We made ourselves comfortable at opposite ends of an extremely plush and comfortable sofa.
The minute we started playing, I realised I had a problem. Gail was brilliant! She took the first two cheeses without stopping, and nearly reached the third before falling down on a question that wanted Tesla’s first name. Admittedly, there aren’t many guys called Nicola. I took over and got a question right, then one wrong so had to hand the dice straight back. At least it wasn’t a cheese question so I got to keep my pullover, my shoes and socks having already gone.
Gail was on the next cheese in a single move and I didn’t get to keep my pullover for very long. It was a very obscure question but she aced it without even blinking. Did this woman know everything? Evidently not, because she then fell down on a sport question and I was in. A single move got me to my first cheese, the blue.
Gail read out the question. “What type of rock is basalt?”
“Igneous. I nominate you, by the way.”
Gail giggled and removed her socks. Socks! I was getting nowhere here. I rolled again, landed on a Throw Again square and chose a History question as my next destination. Getting Oliver Cromwell confused with Richard Cromwell sent the dice back to Gail, who once again took only one move to get to her next cheese, a pink.
“I’m just going to fetch us a drink,” she said and headed for the kitchen. By the time she had returned with a bottle, two wine glasses and a bowl of nuts, I had sneaked a look at the question and it wasn’t an easy one. I didn’t know the answer anyway.
“Ready,” she announced after switching on the light and closing the curtains. She remained standing as I read, “In the Henry Fonda film 12 Angry Men, which actor plays the last member of the jury to change his vote?”
Martin Balsam.”
“Lee J. Cobb.” Gail, still standing, undid all ten buttons on her shirt, slowly peeled it off and threw it onto the armchair. I was right! She wasn’t wearing a bra. I couldn’t help staring. Her tits were larger than either Lynda’s or Julie’s, with small, pink, perky nipples. And they hadn’t drooped a single millimetre.
She smiled and retook her seat on the sofa. “Well? Like what you see?”
“Err … yes I do.” (And so did my dick!) “They look absolutely beautiful.”
“You don’t have to just look, you know.” I shifted to sit next to her and cupped one in each hand. They were unbelievably firm. I moved lower, took one nipple in my mouth and it immediately became a fair bit perkier than before. I heard her catch her breath as I strummed the other nipple with my free hand, then her free hand undid the top button of my shirt and was gently brushed away.
“I’ll let you know when we get to that part of the game.”
“Hope it’s soon.”
“The way you’re getting through it, it will be.” For the moment though, I was perfectly happy where I was, sitting kissing both breasts.
“Hey! What about me!”
“OK.” I lifted my head to face her and we kissed for a while, fairly passionately. Then I said, “Come on, back to the game.”
It was my turn so I rolled the dice and two correct answers got me to the next cheese, a brown; Arts and Literature. The question was: what was George Orwell’s real name? Could I think of it? In the end, I just passed. “Now you can take my shirt off.”
Gail leaned over, unbuttoned my shirt, slipped it sensuously off and tossed it aside. She pulled me closer and gave my nipples the same treatment hers had just had, with a skill I envied. Downstairs in my jeans, things were getting rather tight. I wondered what was happening in hers.
By mutual consent we disengaged and Gail had her next throw, which took her closer to the next cheese, but an awkward history question stopped her. My go took me away from the brown cheese but a crafty U-turn got me back to face another A&L question. This one was easier. I knew W. B. Yeats was Irish. I tucked my little brown triangle into my circle, and wondered if I might be seeing another brown triangle very soon.
TO BE CONTINUED …
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