This flashback is part of a larger story, and tells of an incident which shaped Susan, a character in "The Chess Bet." I would love any feedback, and am always open to suggestions. More flashbacks can be found on my profile.
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Susan had learned to play chess in her early twenties, when she shared an apartment with an astronomy student. Max had urged her to learn the complex game, insisting that it would help her develop her creativity. Desperate for inspiration for the umpteen essays looming before her, she had watched closely as he set up the pieces and explained the rules. He'd been impressed by her talent, so much that he started to wonder what other talents the natural beauty had yet to reveal.
Max and Susan had played late into the night many times before she was able to best him. He'd allowed his attention to drift to the shape of her collarbone, just visible underneath her light cotton shift. When her elated cry of "Checkmate!" claimed his attention, he leaned over the chessboard to catch her face in his hands.
She'd caught her breath, and let her expression soften. Time slowed for a moment as he looked into her eyes, bright against her flushed cheeks, her mouth opening just a little. He'd moved his head ever so slightly closer to hers, his thumbs gently pressed against her cheeks. She was soft under his hands, her face growing ever warmer.
Just before his lips brushed against hers, he stopped. She whimpered, filled with a sudden longing for his touch. The amusement in his eyes spurred her on to close the gap, and she melted into him.
Max stood up, breaking the kiss only for a moment. His firm hand on Susan's shoulder kept her in her seat as he crossed over to her and bent to capture her with another kiss, hungrier and more passionate than the last. He felt her growing arousal as she grabbed at his shirt and attempted to pull it over his head, eager to see what she'd only glimpsed from time to time as he left the shower, only a towel between decency and total exposure. He laughed, grasping her hands in his, refusing to let her take control.
She was taken aback; certainly no man had ever stopped her from pulling his clothes off. His natural possession of her caused a flush to spread over her face and across her ample chest. Even in those days she had dressed in loose flowing outfits and generally eschewed bras, and this gave him an excellent view of the cleavage he'd pictured during his many nights alone with his hand.
Max kissed her again, this time pinning her hands behind her chair back. "Now keep them there, and don't move. Understood?" His voice had dropped to a low growl, primal and concupiscent, and caused her to gasp, her nipples stiffening as the blood rushed in. All she could do was nod, spellbound by this new side of her friend.