Thank you for reading. This is my entry for the Covid19 Event. I hope it provides some escape in this troubling times.
Stay safe.
***
The world is in flames.
Well not literally. Figuratively speaking it's close to going down the drains. To say we're fine and we will be fine if we keep ourselves neat, clean and respectful. To say -- world is doing fine, but some minor hiccup that we could've avoid -- would be a little too much. We've to have chaos at all times. Chaos makes money. Money runs the world. Countries warring against one another; blatant lies orchestrated between nations to disrupt others and just being plain human. The world and its people were doing business as usual. Shut in their houses, but doing as usual.
Rachel stood on the roof of her apartment condo drinking her cup of tea, watching the world around her. The world's silence was good. No cars, planes or people screaming over the windows. Life was good. Her loving fiancée was behind her with their friends playing some table top game she couldn't understand. God did she try. But she couldn't. It looked way fun. But, her soon to be husband was always taking his games a little bit too far.
Sam sat on his 'throne' wielding the 'power hammer' and speaking from on high to his friends. Pretentiousness dripping from every word.
"Plebe, thou invaded my realm; now face mine wrath," he waved his meat tenderizer around.
"You rolled a 1. Goblins take your 'power hammer' and 'throne' -- rape you and use you as a toilet," the DM laughed as he checked his notes.
"Lies, all lies. Goblins doth do nothing," Sam mock argued.
They all laughed as he stood up from his wooden stool, "Ok, my accent is a bit off."
"Off? You sound more Russian than 'ye old British'. 'Sides, when will you come again? We'll have cake," his best friend wagged his eyebrows as he tempted Sam.
"Nah, I'll pass the cake, but will do for another round of this. Next time though, I've to go to bed, tomorrow is a busy day," Sam explained.
"Yeah I bet," his friend smiled mischievously.
Sam watched as the laugh rippled through the group, "Don't stay too late, you hear."
His friend suddenly changed, as if trying to hide his tear, "I understand. Some thing's need to stay hidden. You don't wear him down you hear, however if he runs we'll tie him to the bed."
The cackling bunch were ripping and tearing into Sam, "Ok, that happened one time. And I didn't run, I politely excused myself."
The group continued to laugh. Rachel watching her beloved man enjoy their playful ribbing and joking. The mock pout reminded her how lucky she truly was. She wondered sometimes, how did she ever get so lucky?
Sam approached, "Baby are you ready? We've to go."
"Hey your apartment is across ours, we'll see you again tomorrow," his best friend waved his hand as Sam and Rachel disappeared behind the roof door.
"I'm sorry you waited for me, must've been boring as heck," Sam apologized to Rachel.
She gently shook her head, "No my love. I enjoyed myself. You were with me last night while I gabbed with my friends, and you never said a word."
"Boring," he mockingly exclaimed.
Rachel smiled, gently pinching his sides, "Jerk."
Sam leaned in and gently kissed his lover, "Yes, but I'm yours."
Finally, out of breath they slowly disengaged, watching each other's eyes, "I'll race you to the bedroom," he whispered before he bolted towards their door, fumbling with the keys.
Rachel squeaked and started to run after him. They fought with the lock before bursting in their apartment and closing the doors. Sam was faster and started to run first, but suddenly found himself tripping and falling to the floor. As he looked for what tripped him he watched Rachel's foot raised few inches of the floor. She had a menacing grin on her smiling face.
She started running, "Last one gets to do what the winner wants," she exclaimed while giggling like mad.
Sam was on his feet, but he know when he was beaten. The woman he so dearly loved yelled out her victory as she jumped up and down.
"I'm the winner. You're the loser. L -- O -- S -- E -- R. Loser, loser; pants on fire," she sang her joy.
Sam chuckled as he entered behind her, "What does that even mean?"
"You don't know? When your pants are on fire, you've take them off, now," She instructed.
He raised his eyebrows, "Oh? Says who?"
She smiled, "I do!"
He grinned while his pants dropped to the floor. His cock already semi -- hard.
"Now, disrobe me; slave," She spoke from high.
Sam smiled yet again, "Yes, my mistress."
Rachel's pussy was drenched. Their play escalating more and more. He came close. His penis bobbing in the air, she licked her lips as she watched the erotic movement of his limb. She knew he could smell her sex, as was evident by blood pumping into his beautiful cock.
One by one he carefully removed every article of clothing.
Before he took her clothes off, Sam knew he had to do something with his girlfriend's glasses. He often made mistakes; involving clothing -- over the head -- glasses approach. He was proud that he finally remembered to take them off before doing anything else first.
To avoid unnecessary embarrassment, of course. Glasses went on a table near the window.
Right after that was done her t -- shirt came next. It went slowly over her head then in moments found itself in his hands.
