… CONTINUED
I stood up and adjusted my boxers.
“You’d just lost the last point,” I said, “So it’s my turn.”
We sat back down facing each other. It was warm and cosy on the hearthrug, although being only a couple of feet from Lynda’s exquisite little naked body helped somewhat in this regard. I was just about to roll the dice when she said, “Just a minute. What do we do now?”
I looked puzzled. “Carry on with the game I suppose.”
“But I’ve got nothing left to take off, what happens if I lose another point?” I had to admit I hadn’t thought of that.
“Of course not,” said Lynda with a wry smile. “You didn’t think past getting me naked, did you?”
This of course was true.
“So,” she continued, “Do we just get dressed again and carry on, or restart the game as well?”
Getting dressed didn’t appeal. Like any true-blooded male, I was enjoying her nudity and my near nudity, and wasn’t going to throw that away without a fight. Although now in uncharted territory, I knew I had to think fast.
“I’ve got it,” I suggested eventually. “We’ll continue the game, but while you’re naked, if you lose a point I get to put something back on.” That met with her approval, and my roll of the dice landed me on a brown (Arts and Literature) square.
Lynda reached for the card to read out my question. She was on her knees and I went behind her, drizzling delicate kisses down the back of her neck. I reached round to make the most of her nakedness, gently stroking her perfectly shaved mound with one hand, which rapidly became two. I soon found her clit and touched it lightly with two fingers of one hand, while two fingers of the other hand began to venture into her pussy which by now was becoming wet again.
“Oohh, Everard that’s lovely, but do be a dear and stop for a minute, or I won’t be able to concentrate.”
Reluctantly I desisted, and rested my head on her shoulder to read with her. My question was about Bertie Wooster’s auntie, but I’ve never read any P. G. Wodehouse so had to just take a guess. It was of course incorrect so it was now Lynda’s turn, resulting in a brown A&L question which she got right; this took her to a blue cheese square. Correctly identifying the capital of Czechoslovakia earned her the cheese and the point. What would she do, get my boxers off or put something back on? She reached for her panties thus answering my question. I moved to sit opposite her, and she threw the dice again. Her next square was a pink one and correctly knowing the title of Cilla Black’s first chart-topper put her on an orange cheese square. (Or red leicester as we liked to call it). I couldn’t help a little snigger.
“Oh, Sports and Leisure, tough luck old girl.”
The card asked which driver had won the Formula 1 World Championship despite having only one race victory that year. God damn it! I was an avid F1 fan when we met and she soon became one as well. There were two possible answers (Hawthorn and Rosberg Senior) and she knew them both, her circle thus gaining another cheese bringing her total to three. Mine was four.
“Do you want to do the honours?” I asked. She certainly did. She came over to where I was sitting, and had my boxers off in a flash. She took my now floppy cock in her hand and began to work her magic. By the time she released it thirty seconds later, it was well on the way back to fully erect. I had moved to kneel down in front of her, and I now pulled her to her knees too, so that we were at about the same height. Holding her close, I gave her some gentle kisses to the base of her neck just next to her collarbone – a very sexy place in my opinion. At the same time I was moving both hands down to caress her fantastically tight little ass. My erection by now was pointing at the ceiling
“Down boy, we haven’t finished the game yet.” I relinquished the dice and we both sat down again. Lynda got her next two questions right, landing on a yellow cheese square. I knew History wasn’t one of her strong points.
She read out the card. It was asking what year the Titanic sank.
“Fifteenth of April,” I said helpfully.
“Ssshhhh!”
“Twenty past two in the morning-”
“You’re doing it again! Stop trying to put me off!” Her tits were quivering again too, which I was finding every bit as enjoyable as I had the first time.
“1915 wasn’t it?”
“No, that was the Lusitania! Shut up.” She closed her eyes for a second or two. “1913.”
But of course it wasn’t.
I stood up, as did she. Her panties had hit the floor before I even reached her. I scooped her up, took her into the bedroom, and placed her gently on the bed. I lay between her legs and gazed into her amazing bright blue eyes. Our lips melted together and our tongues lapped at each other hungrily.
Suddenly, Lynda broke away and gazed at me intently. “Everard, are we back together?”
I grinned. “It would appear so.” I kissed her playfully on the end of her nose. “So what are we waiting for?”
“Absolutely nothing whatsoever …” and she held my cock, then skilfully eased it into her waiting honeypot. It felt as smooth as a ten-year-old single malt whisky, and just as intoxicating. For the next few minutes we forgot not just the game, but everything else apart from each other. Then she said, “Just a second,” and we disengaged. She opened the bed covers, crawled underneath and pulled me with her. Once cosily inside, she turned so that her back was towards me, reached between her legs for my cock, and inserted it from behind. This had always been our favourite position and she turned her head slightly so that we could still kiss.
We disappeared into our own little world once more and became completely unaware of the passage of time. Neither of us had any idea how long it was, but eventually the passion increased to fever pitch and that perfect second arrived when we both erupted simultaneously.
It was a while before either of us said anything or indeed felt any need to. Lynda recovered the power of speech first. Well, just like a woman.
“Did we ever finish that game?”
TO BE CONTINUED …
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