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I’m not sure why we called it “the game,” but somehow it just stuck. It was also possible to refer to it in mixed company without arousing too many suspicions, and I think that may have been it’s biggest selling point. Michelle suggested it, claiming she knew several women who complained of inferior hook-ups and selfish men. I guess she had been bragging about me as an attentive and thorough lover and one of them had asked if I was available for rent. Michelle and I had specifically designated our relationship as “open,” so I was absolutely available.
Apparently some of these women had certain fantasies as well, and I remarked about how I’d love to help some of them come true. Michelle thought for a moment, and then suggested that we do something about it.
The “rules” were fairly simple. We would find suitable partners for each other, partners who were interested in sex. We would then set them up on a date, but with the outcome a foregone conclusion – sex. There were 3 main components: the meet, the word, and the number.
The meet was simple enough – The Ugly Mug was one of the better bars near campus, a little less frequented by the frat boy party crowd. The target would be told to be there, preferably at the bar, wearing a red shirt or sweater and wearing a special item Michelle and I picked out. She was an aspiring pilot, so I bought her a red, white and blue rhinestone pin in the shape of a plane. She bought me a pendant of a dragon’s head, along with a chain. We would give these items to the targets and set up the time of the meet. The anonymity of it was one of the best parts. I loved walking into the bar and looking for the girl. Plenty of red shirts were always in evidence, sometimes more than one at the bar, but that only made it more interesting.
Michelle and I were soul mates, I think. We understood each other at some fundamental level. At least, she understood me. I’m not sure I ever figured her out, as she was always able to surprise and delight me. She knew my varied tastes and my sick little fantasies. We talked for hours about things like that and I think she remembered every word. She sent me a stream of unique women, not the cookie-cutter Playboy playmates every man thinks he wants. Tall, short, thin, voluptuous, young, mature, ethnic, whatever. For some reason I’ve always been attracted to the road less traveled.
For my part, I tried to send her what I thought she wanted. She liked 2 distinct types; young and inexperienced men so she could have her way unobstructed, and studs with something to prove. How I fit into her desires I still don’t know.
Once the identification is made, I introduce myself like any guy would to a pretty girl in a bar, but with a slight twist. No other guy is going to ask her those two questions: What is the word, and what is the number.
The word was always the same, “Zebra.” Not a word that comes up often in conversation outside the zoo. The word was the release valve; the sign that we need to drop the roles and talk seriously. In the heat of passion, it meant “stop,” while the word “stop” itself held little meaning.
The number is what made it interesting. This was the level of intensity she desired from me. 1 was a gentle, romantic tryst, rife with foreplay and soft kisses, perhaps a backrub, and in general a comfortable lay. 2 was a little more robust, with less foreplay and a more varied menu of positions and intensity, perhaps an “average” session for normal people. 3 was a wild ride, a girl who wanted to get it on hot and heavy. 4 was an aggressive thing where I was to be forceful and commanding, short on compassion and long on the raunchy stuff, where the word “no” had little meaning. This was for the adventurous types. 5 was basically a rape fantasy, and one of the big reasons we came up with the “word.” Michelle suggested this level, telling me about a friend of hers who really got off on the rough stuff and the sense of danger. I was skeptical, but I’m an adventurer myself so I figured why not? Level 5 was definitely the least common request, but there are a few wild stories to be told. At this level, the words “no” and “stop” were encouragements, and only the password would stop me.
Once this exchange was complete, the connection was made and we started to check each other out. I am 5′ 10″, muscular, barrel chested and strong. I don’t have that lean pretty-boy body of a male model, but I had the six-pack and plenty of muscles for a woman to admire. I never considered myself especially attractive, but apparently I have that elusive “animal magnetism.” Michelle swore I had pheromones on my side as well, and she was constantly telling me how good I smelled. Whatever the cause, I was rarely turned away at this point.
There are many stories to tell, and that was one of the best parts as well. Michelle and I would have lunch together the next day and relate our stories. Sometimes that got us horny enough that we had to run back to my apartment to satiate ourselves before the next class, and sometimes I Escort Bayan Esenyurt made her wait all day.
The first time was one of the best, most likely due to the sense of adventure and daring in this plan. What if I got the wrong girl? What if Michelle picked a dog? What if the girl was just plain boring? I was worried that it might be a bad idea, but the prospect of nailing a strange woman was too much to ignore.
I walked into the Mug that Tuesday evening with butterflies in my stomach. Don’t get me wrong, I have a fair amount of self-confidence and I’m not afraid to take a chance, but knowing I was going to have sex that night with a stranger was just so exciting! I made my way to the end of the bar and scanned the small crowd. There was no sign of a woman in red at the bar, so I ordered a beer, checked to make sure I had breath mints, and waited. I’m not accustomed to sitting alone in a bar, but I found it liberating to be able to watch the crowd. People watching may be a waste of time, but it can be entertaining when you have the time to waste.
I had wasted no more than 15 minutes when she came in. I saw the red blouse and the glitter of the pin as soon as she hit the door. She was of medium height, perhaps 5 foot 7, with medium length, full dark brown hair. She wore blue jeans and what looked like low black boots. I could tell even from a distance that her figure was very nice. As she came towards the bar I was able to watch her walk, and bounce.
She was very chesty, easily a D cup and probably more. She was well curved without being chubby or flabby at all. Her hips swayed invitingly and her head swung around, looking for me. I stayed put and tried to be inconspicuous. Hidden at the end of the bar, it was hard to get a good look at me, so even if she had been told what to look for she was unlikely to notice me.
She sat near the middle of the bar, her generous breasts nearly sitting on the polished wood surface. She caught the bartender’s attention, along with lot of the other guys in the room, and ordered a drink. I was able to get a better look at her face now, and again I was not disappointed. She had a pretty, pleasant face, and nice teeth. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but then that type rarely catches my eye. She had bright wide eyes and tastefully done make-up. Michelle had done well so far. I wondered how she found this girl. She was certainly a student, but a friend, or classmate, or who knows what else? I started to wonder about how she chose the girls, but quickly snapped back to the task at hand. My target was nervous.
She had twisted around and was looking over the bar, trying to find me. This twisting of the torso gave a wonderful silhouette to her chest, and I became very excited about the evening. I’m normally a level 2 or 3 kind of guy, but this woman was built for luxurious pleasure and I was almost hoping for a level 1.
Her drink arrived as she twisted the other way, in my direction. I avoided her eyes on her first pass, then looked up and watched her scan the rest of the room. When she turned to get her drink, our eyes met. She did a double take and I had to smile a little. She was obviously nervous and a little jumpy, and the double take was worth a good laugh in other circumstances. I didn’t want to spook her or increase her nerves, so I kept it to myself. I responded with what I intended to be a pleasant smile and a slight nod of the head.
She composed herself quickly with a slightly orchestrated sip of her drink, allowing herself a moment to recover. She knew she had jumped out of her skin and wanted to be cool, so she artfully ignored me for a little while. I did the same, not wanting to zoom in too quickly, and perhaps I could have some fun. I stared into my drink, around the bar, anywhere but at her face. I tried to let her catch me staring at her chest once or twice, but I don’t now if it worked.
She picked at her blouse a little, making sure I had a good view of the pin over her left breast. She even turned herself toward me a little, again pulling the blouse tight against her flesh and giving me more reason to stare. She was getting fidgety, playing with the blouse and drinking too fast, so I decided to move in.
I drained the little that was left in my black Russian and stood up. Again, her head nearly whipped around, caught just in time to avoid an embarrassing reaction. Still, she watched me out the side of her eye as I moved closer and sat next to her.
“Hi” I opened.
“Hi!” she replied lightly, turning to look at me. Her skin was very well cared for, and her teeth were exquisite. Her orthodontist did good work. She had obviously prepped for this “date” and made herself very presentable. I was pleased at that, having a bit of a passion for cleanliness.
“Sorry to intrude, but you looked, I don’t know – nervous, maybe. Everything OK?”
“Sure, I’m fine. I’m just supposed to meet somebody here. Kind of a blind date.” I think she wanted to ask if I was Escort Bayan Avcılar the guy, and her eyes definitely asked the silent question, but I dodged it.
“Yeah, I saw you looking around the bar. I guess you haven’t found him yet?”
“Not yet,” she replied, still asking the question with her eyes.
“Well, can I buy you a drink and keep you company until he shows, or do you think that would scare him away?” She thought about that for a minute, and then flat out asked me.
“Are you the guy? Are you my blind date?”
“I’d like to be.” I tried to infer as much as possible with that, giving her a good sly smile and a wink. I think I just confused her, and she was obviously getting more nervous, so I decided to drop the act. I reached out to the pin on her blouse and lightly picked up the end of it, turning it toward me a little and giver the top of her breast the slightest brush with my fingers. “That’s a pretty pin. It looks good on you.” Her breath caught and she jumped a little as I touched her, the stress and anticipation obviously working through her system. She was almost certain now that I was the guy. I let my hand drop away and very definitely brushed down the side of her left breast with the back of my hand.
“Are there a couple of things you’d like to tell me?” I asked, looking right into her eyes and doing my best to convey the right aura, one of confidence, strength and invitation.
Again she shivered at my touch. She relaxed just a little now that she knew I was the one. She gave a heaving sigh of relief, sending her gorgeous breasts into a wonderful display, then smiled at me. “I’m glad it’s you. I thought for a minute it was that other guy in the corner. Yes, I do have some things to tell you. A word and a number.”
“Whisper the word in my ear,” I said, leaning my head in close to her. She too leaned in and placed her lips against my ear. She lightly whispered “Zebra” into my ear, then gave my earlobe a playful tug with her lips. As we pulled apart, she shot me a slightly wicked grin, finally able to relax and enjoy herself. I smiled back.
“That is my favorite word tonight. Now, there are a few different ways to get to the number. We can get to it quickly if you want to just tell me, or we can discuss it over drinks. Or we can ignore it over drinks.” She turned her head slightly at this, unsure of my meaning. I explained. “Are you a drinker tonight, or do you want a clear head.”
“Oh, I think I can drink a few tonight.” She admitted with a little laugh. That was good. I was looking forward to a little buzz for this. “But lets not take too long, OK?” I’d like to think she was wanting to get into my pants quickly instead of needing to go study for an exam, and her tone seemed to confirm that hope.
“What’s your shot of choice?”
“Tequila, of course!” A party girl!
I asked the bartender for 2 shots of Cuervo and told her the story. “You drink the number of shots that equals the number you want to tell me. I’ll keep up with you, of course. OK?” She smiled and nodded.
“I think I like your stile,” she said. The drinks arrived and we clinked glasses, then downed the bitter beverage. She grimaced a little, as many people do when shooting Tequila, and asked the bartender for a beer. “Just a chaser. This doesn’t count, right?” I nodded mutely, still trying to exude that air of sensuality, confidence and anticipation. I let my eyes wander all over her, and I made sure she noticed. She quickly ordered 2 more shots.
“You like what you see?” She asked, turning toward me a little more and presenting her ample bosom for closer inspection. The blouse was buttoned fairly high, but she reached up and undid the top one, allowing a lovely view of her cleavage. She shifted her shoulders a bit, pushing them into each other and increasing her alluring topography.
“You’re damn right I do. I’m looking forward to a closer inspection.” That made her smile wickedly.
“So am I.”
I was wearing a fairly tight T-shirt, light gray, and blue jeans with my big clunky black boots. I filled out the shirt fairly well, and when I noticed her eyes on me I tried to give her a little bit of a show. I gave a little stretch, pulling my shoulder blades together and flexing the arms and chest just briefly. I tried to make it a subtle gesture instead of some preening body-builder pose, and I think it went well.
We continued to let our eyes wander as the second shots arrived. Again, they went down fast. She chased hers down with the beer and then cocked her head at me in an inquisitive angle, preparing for a question.
“I haven’t asked for you name yet.” She said, making it sound like a request for that information. I thought about it briefly, wondering if I should give her my real name, or a fake one. Not that it mattered, but just for the sake of the game. I decided to play up the “stranger” aspect of the evening and replied,
“And I haven’t given it. Nor will I.” I smiled and winked and picked Escort Bayan Beylikdüzü up the second empty shot glass. “Another round?”
She did not hesitate. “Yes. Definitely another round.”
“You DO like the sauce, don’t you?”
“Which sauce do you mean?” she said with a quick and lurid glance at my crotch. It was my turn for a shiver of anticipation. I love aggressive women, and I love women who can flirt well. I felt the first hint of a swell in my pants just then. She noticed my reaction and smiled even further, reaching out her hand to stroke my leg just once. She knew what she was doing, too.
A little more small talk and innuendo passed and our third round showed up. We were drinking quickly now and when they hit it would be a nice buzz. She was already up to three now, so a wild ride was in store for us. She was ready to go, so she asked the bartender for the check.
I raised an eyebrow at her, and she just looked at me, almost like a challenge. So, she wanted a level 3. Nice. The swelling increased and I intentionally rearranged myself for her, allowing her to see my contour. It was now her turn to raise an eyebrow in approval. I wasn’t a monster, but I had nothing to be ashamed of either.
She leaned forward and put her hand on my thigh near the growing bulge and said; “Pick up the tab while I go to the ladies room.” She used her hand on my leg to push up to stand, then brushed it over my crotch as she walked by. Damn, this girl knew how to tease. I turned to watch her go and I swear she was milking it for all it was worth, walking slowly and swaying those heavenly hips a little more than she needed to. She looked back over her shoulder as she turned into the restroom corridor and our eyes met again. She winked obscenely and disappeared.
As I turned back, the bartender was arriving with the shots and the bill. I dug out a couple of twenties and told him to keep the change. “Thanks, and good luck!” he said with a nod toward the still-warm barstool next to me.
“Luck has nothing to do with it tonight.”
She made me wait quite a while, it seemed. I was planning my moves already, hoping we both had the same ideas. This being the first time I was a little concerned. I wanted to make a good impression, because this had been a very exciting evening already. I wanted more of this, and in order to keep the game going, I had to have good reviews. I try to be a patient and attentive lover, and I use my brain as much as anything else. Sex is occasionally purely physical, but more often it takes more than one organ to do a good job.
I was starting to worry about her. It had been quite a long time by now. I thought things had been going very well, but I supposed it was possible that she had run out on me. I was starting to think of contingency plans when she finally returned with a smile and a bounce in her step. She hopped up on the barstool and gave me a little surprise. Her lovely breasts bounced with her, large nipples pointing through the thin fabric of her blouse. She had removed her bra and no doubt stored it in her purse. She also had lost another button, allowing me an incredible view down her front. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head and she laughed at me.
“Drink up!” she said, draining her shot and slapping it down on the bar, eliciting another wonderful ripple of her chest. I drained my shot as well and stood up, offering her my hand to help her off the stool.
She smiled, took my hand and hopped up, still intentionally bouncing those huge melons at me. She lead the way out of the bar, still holding my hand. We hit the street and she let go of me, turning around for another bounce and asking, “Where to?”
“This way,” I said, gesturing to the right where my apartment lay only a block distant. She followed my gesture and walked toward my place, pulling out in front of me quickly. I walked fast to keep up, but not fast enough to catch her. She looked like she wanted to show off some more and I wanted to see it. She was happy and laughing, taunting me and touching herself, turning around and shaking her chest at me. It was a very short walk, thankfully, and I indicated my small apartment building when we came to it. I was on the top floor of three, and she went up the stairs in front of me, shaking her ass in my face and urging me upward.
I fumbled with the key a bit as she stood before me, exposing even more of her breasts now with only 2 buttons remaining and barely keeping the shirt closed. I got the door open and she pushed in past me and headed for the kitchen. My roommate was out for the evening so I had the place to myself.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Make yourself at home.” I headed back to the bathroom for a quick piss and a little freshening. I brushed my teeth and applied a touch more cologne and checked that all was ready. A nice hard level 3 was about to become a reality. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.
I headed back out to the living room and adjoining kitchen, and she was there waiting for me. She had set up something on the table and I moved forward to inspect it. A small bottle of Tequila stood next to one of my shot glasses, filled to the rim with the golden liquor. She had undone the last 2 buttons and tied the shirttails together under her breasts, outlining and displaying them marvelously.
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