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Playing the Game

by eric hansen

I started playing the game again one muggy Saturday a few months back. I just couldn't help it. When I saw him sitting in the window of IT, a new video bar on the main strip, I was overcome by impulse. He didn't really look like Philip. Instead of short blonde curls he had a thick, dark brown mane and a crest of muscles filled what should have been a baggy T-shirt. His eyes were a similar color, sort of a chartreuse, but he didn't have Phil's long lashes. It was the smile that caught me, a sly half grin that ended in a dimple on his left cheek. In a trance I walked through the open doors and entered the artificial atmosphere of smoke and cologne.

"Hi, I'm Dan," he said, leaping forward and squeezing my right shoulder. "I've been looking for a guy like you." Way too aggressive, I thought, but then he smiled again and everything was right. We didn't talk much, just drank a pitcher of flat beer and eyed each other.

"Let's go back to my place," I finally offered. "I wanna teach you a little game I know."

"Okey dokey," he responded. "But you should know I'm kinda vanilla."

"Can you handle fantasies," I replied, "role playing, make believe." He looked quizzical. "Just follow my lead," I said softly. "You'll be a star player in no time."

I was Philip's tutor. He was a computer whiz who thought in numbers. He took notes in class by drawing flow charts so he was clueless when it came to literature. It was just too hard to diagram. I was a Creative Writing major who walked around in a veil of words. My reality was in my stories and I truly believed that I could reinvent myself on the written page. We were both taking "Love in Literature" as our senior English elective and when Phil got a "D" on the class midterm I agreed to explain the evolution of Jim and Arvay's relationship in Zora Hurston's Seraph on the Suwanee. Actually, I suggested it. I was already intrigued by his shy demeanor, not to mention the ample basket flopping around in his sweat pants. We began meeting in my dorm room every Tuesday and Thursday night, but discussions of plot and conflict quickly turned more personal. Phil was still a virgin! He explained to me, with flushed cheeks, that the closest he had come to sex was a year earlier after the spring luau. Unfortunately, he ejaculated before he could get his pants off. The little witch he was with spread the news the following day sending Phil back into the isolation of the computer lab for almost an entire year. He signed up for Love in Lit hoping to learn some tricks to attract women, but instead he found me. I complimented him on his sexy runner's legs, eagerly listened to talk about the Internet, massaged away headaches from too much time in front of a computer screen and, finally, brought him into the world of passion he was longing for.

I vividly remember the first time Phil and I played the game.It happened early one Tuesday night. Phil arrived for his usual tutoring session but was having trouble concentrating because of a leg cramp he developed while jogging around campus earlier that evening. I was an old pro at rubbing his neck and temples so it didn't seem odd when I offered to help him out. He was still wearing his neon green jogging shorts so I simply instructed him to lay face down on top of my bed. I kneeled between his spread legs and began vigorously kneading his calf with both hands. His flesh was hot and his muscles were still pumped up from his workout. I couldn't believe he was finally in my bed. I was caught between my desire and my fear but the sweet smell of his perspiration was an aphrodisiac that empowered me to reach a trembling hand into his shorts and grasp his throbbing testicles. I didn't know what to expect next but to my relief he let out a low moan and slowly rolled over in the bed. His eyes were shut and he didn't say a word but his excitement was clearly outlined in his shorts. I paused for a moment trying to remember how I had written this scene numerous times before in my journal, but I could not find any words for my feelings so I let instinct take charge of this lascivious experience. I don't know how long it lasted but I was swept through a range of emotions I never knew existed. My consciousness expanded outward, further and further, finally bursting through to freedom as he exploded in my mouth. In a daze, I propelled myself from the bed and staggered a few feet before half falling to the floor, where I sat and watched him lying on the bed with his fingers still clutching the wrinkled sheets, his eyes tightly shut. After what seemed like hours Phil finally stirred. He quickly felt around the bed with his hands until he located his shorts without opening his eyes. He put them on and rolled over onto his belly, burying his face in the pillow. I was acutely aware of the clock ticking on the wall as I sat there, not sure how to respond. I knew I needed to keep my euphoria a secret, for Phil's sake, so I watched and said nothing. Finally, he turned his head in my direction.

"You really know what to do," he mumbled. I didn't respond. "While you did it I pretended you were Judy. Does that bother you?" Judy was a varsity football cheerleader with straight, jet black hair, just like mine.

"Did you enjoy it," I answered after a pause.

"I didn't know anything could feel so good," he replied sincerely while opening his eyes.

"Then I don't mind." I smiled. Phil sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his haphazard curls.

"Look," he began in a more determined tone, "as far as I'm concerned this was just a game. A fantasy, alright? I got head from a beautiful cheerleader and you got what you've been after. You did get what you wanted?"

"Can we play the game again?"

"No promises."

"Just one," I replied. "You're welcome anytime."

After he left I felt absolutely giddy. Sleep wasn't a possibility so I masturbated and giggled a lot. I also made a promise to myself. "I'll do anything to make Phil want it again as much as I do," I swore aloud. "Anything at all. No rules, no boundaries." I finally fell asleep in the wee hours and my dreams were sweet.

He didn't show up for his regular Thursday tutoring session. At first I tried to pretend he was just late but as time continued to pass I stopped thinking and started drinking. I kept a fifth of JD under my bed for special occasions and this seemed like the perfect time to empty the bottle. I took shots and sang along with Erasure, "Who needs love like that!" I thought about going to South Hall. I had heard there was a great U-shaped bathroom there that provided the utmost privacy for lonely, horny guys. I would meet some misunderstood frat boy who would tell me his girlfriend never sucked his dick right. Afterwards, he would promise to meet me for a beer at the campus pub but he wouldn't show. If we ever bumped into each other he would laugh at me with his friends and murmur "faggot" under his breath, but not too quietly. I didn't need Philip. I could be abused and ignored by lots of other guys.

Suddenly, I heard a tap, tap, tap on the door. I looked at my clock. It was half past midnight. I wondered if my music was too loud, or if a nearby frat boy had picked up on my vibrations and come directly to my room.

"It's Phil, are you awake," he urgently whispered from the hallway. I pounced at the door and pulled it open with as much attitude as I could muster.

"Of course I'm awake. I study lit every Thursday night." I meant to finish my statement with, "Now get lost before you shoot in your pants again," but the sight of Phil smiling nervously at the door took my voice away.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he stammered, "but I was getting something for tonight. You did say anytime, right?" I noticed a small, brown paper bag clutched in one hand and a growing bulge in his tight, blue sweats.

"Yeah, anytime," I replied, leaving the door open as I walked back to sit on the bed. He entered quickly and shut the door. He stood there nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"I'm really sorry," he said again, "I've been outside your building for hours. I just needed to think this through."

"What's in the bag?" He tossed it to me then leaned against the wall. I stuck my hand inside without looking, like a grab bag, but I couldn't figure out what the small cylindrical object was until I pulled it out. "Lipstick?"

"It's violet, uh, the shade Judy wears. Will you put it on?" I didn't know what to say. He really wanted me to wear lipstick! What was next a teddy and high heels. I was trying to think of something sarcastic to say when I noticed his shaft peeking out of the top of his sweats. This really turned him on. No rules, no boundaries I reminded myself. I pulled off the cap and slowly, very slowly, painted my lips. He watched eagerly, his eyes never blinking. When I finished I patted the bed next to me.

"Come over here and let Judy give your organ a french kiss it will never forget."

Philip showed up regularly for the next six weeks, every Tuesday and Thursday, even some Saturdays, always on time. I became enthralled with the game. I wanted to play it perfectly so I followed Judy around campus learning how to walk with a bounce, imitating the way she blew her bangs out of her eyes, even getting close enough to smell her perfume. It took hours in a variety of department stores smelling testers to identify the right scent: Liz's Passion! But it was worth my trouble and money because when Phil smelled it he went wild, tangling his fingers in my hair and grinding his crotch in my face. I knew how to please my man and this was only the beginning. I had a special treat to give him on my birthday. A present for both of us.

My birthday was on the last Tuesday in May. I had finished classes the day before and was beginning the twenty-third year of my life as a college graduate. I was also looking forward to spending a great summer with Philip in the loft I had rented for us downtown. It was part of his surprise. It had a great view of the lake and one of those Murphy beds. It was very romantic, a perfect place for us to begin our lives together. But first I was going to give him the night of his life so he would never want to turn back.

I spent all afternoon getting ready. First, I took a hot shower to relax and soften my skin. Next, I waxed my legs and plucked the few hairs around my nipples. I was already smooth but I wanted to be flawless. I also trimmed my pubic hair into a tidy little patch. Applying make-up was the most difficult and time consuming task. Rouge didn't look as good on my round face as it did on Judy's delicate cheek bones, but the mascara really made my eyes scintillate. I finished off with a blast of Passion and, of course, the violet lipstick, before slipping into a lacy, white negligee to wait for Philip. I didn't expect him for about an hour so I decided to loosen up with a couple of shots but I only had time to toss down one before I heard a knock. The door was unlocked so I sat on the edge of the bed with my legs crossed and said, "I'm waiting for you." The door swung open gently revealing Phil's wiry body framed in the doorway. He was dressed in khaki slacks and a navy cardigan, which was unusual because he always wore sweats or shorts to our encounters. They were easy to take off. I thought he must have known this was a special night, although he certainly wasn't prepared for the vision in front of him. His eyes were wide as the sea. After a moment of hesitation he quickly entered and shut the door.

"Surprise," I giggled. He remained quiet and didn't move away from the door. "Aren't you going to tell me I look ravishing? A girl likes to hear that before she loses her virginity."

"You're not making any sense," he replied. "Are you drunk?"

"No," I said curtly, "I'm high on our love and this all makes perfect sense, but let me explain it to you. Today is my birthday and I want you to give me a special gift. I want to do something we've never done before, with anyone." I lay back on the bed and raised one leg leisurely into the air. "I want you to deflower me, pop my cherry, claim my womanhood, get the picture." Phil took a step back pressing his body against the door.

"I hope you're not serious," he said after a pause, "because there's no chance of that happening."

"Stop teasing me," I pouted. "Take off your clothes and come give Judy what she's asking for."

"You're not Judy! This was always just a game, remember?"

"What I remember is a lot of good sex that kept you coming back over and over again."

"It was good," he said faintly, "but this is crazy." His shoulders slumped forward and he stared at the floor. "I came over to say good-bye."

"Good-bye? Phil don't overreact. I'll take this stuff off right now. Just sit down and lets talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm leaving for Europe the day after tomorrow. It's a graduation present from my parents."

"You never mentioned this trip before."

"I didn't realize how involved you were in all of this. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." He turned around and reached for the doorknob.

"Philip!" He paused with the door half open. "Will you send me a postcard?"

"No promises," he said after a moment. The door closed with a firm click and I was alone.

At the end of the week I moved into my loft downtown. I still couldn't believe that he was gone and the only plan I could come up with was to wait. I clung to the hope that he was missing me, that all the splendors of Europe were dull without the passion of my lips. I got a job waiting tables during the day and at night I wrote our reunion scene over and over again, but as the months passed the happy endings became more bitter. I lost my faith a little at a time as the trees lost their leaves and as the holidays approached my soul became barren and I stopped writing entirely. I can't remember much of the months that followed because I wandered as a wraith through the dark dream of my life until the day outside of IT when a dimple on a stranger awakened my desires, leaving me with an unsatiable need.

After "Mr. Vanilla" there were countless others. I found solace in playing the game again, only this time I was myself and nameless faces played the role of my beloved Philip. But these encounters just deepened the void inside of me and I slowly realized that I needed to confront my feelings. I finally mustered the courage, one Sunday afternoon, and began searching through the loft for a cigar box I had hidden months earlier. I found the box in the cupboard under the bathroom sink. There was some water damage but the lid was still held firmly in place by three strips of masking tape. I sat on the toilet and ripped each strip off quickly, like a Band-Aid, then hastily pulled open the box. Inside was a sexy negligee, perfume, make-up and a bright violet lipstick. I just sat there and starred at these items from my past until an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia took control, propelling me in front of the mirror where I applied some make-up and meticulously painted myself a new pair of violet lips. I puckered and posed. It was just the right color to contrast with my milky white skin and take attention away from my prominent nose. My amber eyes sparkled while I purred, "You look beautiful Judy." As beautiful as the real thing, of that I was certain. I felt a tear rolling down my check so I dabbed it with a tissue and re-examined my face in the mirror.

"It's a good thing this mascara is water proof," I said to my reflection, "because Judy's going out for a night on the town."

I looked divine. I was wearing a pair of black pumps, fishnets, red hot pants and a sheer white halter top. I found this get-up at a thrift store close to my house. It was nine o'clock and I was one of the handful of early arrivals waiting for the wild times to start at IT. I enjoyed this slow period because it allowed me to pick an advantageous seat at the bar and to down a few shots before all the man meat arrived. I was feeling buzzed and getting really engrossed in an enticing video when I heard a gruff voice in my ear, "You have a sensational body." I pivoted on my stool to come face to face with a bear of a man. He looked in his early thirties, stood well over six feet tall and had an unruly beard and mustache. He was dressed in chaps and a T-shirt with a leather vest; not really my type, but his bulging biceps got my immediate attention.

"Your body looks rock hard," I responded. "I like that in a man."

"You're making me rock hard kid. What's you're name?"

"Kid's good."

"Alright kid," he said non-chalantly. "My name's Jake. Do you think you could help me take care of a growing problem." He glanced down at an impressive bulge in his leather.

"Hmm...looks as big as your other muscles."

"It's not done yet."

"Well, you can work on it while we walk back to my place. You better hurry though, I only live a few block away." He just grunted and followed me out the door. He walked behind me the entire way occasionally making candid comments about my ass. I was a little self-conscious and extremely excited. I couldn't wait to get that monster in my mouth. I didn't plan on wasting a single second once we were alone but as soon as I shut my door he excused himself to use the bathroom. I took that opportunity to remove my clothes, except for the stockings, then I sat on the floor next to a red vinyl chair in the corner of the room. I wanted to do him on my knees. He emerged from the bathroom totally naked. I was not disappointed. It stretched well past his navel, a massive obelisk pointing at his huge, hairy chest.

"You didn't lie," I said enthusiastically. He responded by tossing a wet wash cloth at me.

"Wipe that shit off your face and get in the bed," he said.

"I thought this turned you on," I replied uneasily.

"Boys turn me on." I didn't know how to respond so I began to hesitantly wipe my face. Apparently, I wasn't quick enough for him so after a moment he marched across the room, grabbed the cloth from my hand and began to roughly wipe my make-up off. "Much better," he said, dropping the rag on the floor. I smiled and tried to get my face near his dick, hoping to get it over with so he would leave, but I barely moved before he scooped me up and carried me over to the bed. He dropped me face down and half ripped the stockings off my legs. "You got a real bubble butt kid," he said with relish. "I bet it's gonna feel mighty good."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," I said as calmly as possible. "That's not how I play the game." In response he laid on top of me, spreading my legs with only a slight effort.

"This isn't a game kid, it's real. My dick in your ass. That's what it is."

I was scared and confused. Scared of being hurt and confused because the feel of his furry chest rubbing on my back was beginning to arouse me. He must have sensed my turmoil. "Relax kid," he said gently. "I know what I'm doing."

"I've never done this before."

"Don't worry. We'll take it slow. You'll be ready." His skin was hot as he began to rub back and forth on me, igniting a fire that spread through my entire body. I could feel our sweat mingling on my back, filling the air with a dense, musky odor as his fingers probed skillfully inside of me. I knew I was losing control but I didn't care. I wanted this sexy stranger to fill the void inside me so completely that I would never feel empty again.

"Now, do it now," I moaned. The rocking of his body was a strong current carrying me towards some distant point on the horizon. Beads of salt water rolled into my eyes so I closed them and listened to his groans crashing in my ears. I was drifting in a storm of sensations but Jake guided me with precision towards a collage of colors that floated and blended in the recess of my mind. They began to rush towards me like a wall of water and just before the impact I heard an animal scream escape my lips. A second later I was washed away into oblivion.

Moments or minutes passed before I became aware of a motionless form pressing me down into the bed. I was about to squirm when he rolled off of me and got out of the bed. I laid there enjoying the sudden sensation that I was floating in the air. I felt weightless, absolutely free.

"I can fly, I can fly."

"Like a rocket ship kid." I had almost forgotten he was there. I turned over and searched the room for him. He was sitting in the red chair, already dressed except for his boots. He looked ruggedly handsome, like an ad for Testosterone cigarettes, and I was buying.

"My name is David. David Kent."

"Well David, I had a fantastic time. I'm glad I came over. Are you?" In response, I jumped out of the bed and began searching the room: make-up, perfume, assorted clothes, lipstick. I shoved them all into a shopping bag and brought them over to Jake like some sort of offering.

"Will you get rid of these for me. Throw them away or burn them. I don't need them anymore." Jake didn't answer. He pulled on his boots, stood up, then grabbed the bag and headed for the door.

"Want to meet me for a drink tomorrow. I'd like to find out more about you."

"You don't have to say that if you don't mean it."

"No, I don't David. But if you want to see me again I'll be at IT tomorrow night around eight. I'll be waiting for you." And he was.

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