Winter Games

This isn't a sequel to "Boy Next Door" and it probably lacks its quality since I wrote it several months before. However, I thought I'd hit the ground running by submitting my best piece ("Boy Next Door") first. If you haven't read that one first, read this one and then "Boy Next Door."

I was over at his house again, just watching movies and hanging out. There wasn't anything unusual about what we were doing. There wasn't anything special about this day, not an anniversary, not New Year's Eve or Valentine's Day. The only thing different about this day was the fact that this was the first time we were in the house…completely and utterly alone with each other.

To explore the depth of this situation would be redundant. A teenage couple alone in the house together doesn't require much imagination. Wait a minute, I guess that I did explore the depth of this situation to a certain extent.

Anyway, we were just sitting on the couch. He was his normal, somewhat straight-laced and shy self, sitting up straight as the movie played on the screen in the dark room. I thought it was somewhat ridiculous that he seemed so deathly afraid of PDA when we were in the house by ourselves. However, even when his family was around, I'd lean on his shoulder, and he'd put his arm around me. This time, he seemed somewhat more hesitant than usual.

The end credits flickered across the screen as he turned the lights on. Although it was just around late afternoon, it was dark outside due to the winter and that crazy invention of Ben Franklin's, daylight savings time. My eyes squinted, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

I yawned, "What time is it?"

"5:47," he answered, glancing at his watch, "5:47 and thirty two seconds to be exact."

"Your precision astounds me," I laughed, "But I better go."

His face fell, "I thought that you were going to stay a bit longer."

I started to casually confront him, "Why? Did you have something planned?"

He blushed and stammered, "N-no, not really…"

At this rate, we were probably going to get it on by graduation, from graduate school in college.

I glanced at the chessboard on the table and the wickedest grin I ever had in my life crept upon my face.

"I'll tell you what, I'll stay for a chess game," I bargained.

"Chess?" he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes," was all I said as I sat down on the floor by the coffee table.

With a puzzled look, he sat down across from me.

I started the game by moving the pawn in front of my left rook. He mirrored my action. This was probably going to be a short game.

"What would you say if we made this a bit more…interesting?" I asked, advancing my pawn further.

"What do you mean?" his innocence astounded me sometimes.

"A wager perhaps?" I suggested.

From the smirk on his face, he seemed to be catching on, "What sort of wager?"

"How about if you win, I bake a batch of snickerdoodles, and if I win, you have to wear a lime green speedo at your next swim meet?" I was wondering if he would take the bait, but he seemed to know better.

"As good as your cookies are, it's not worth the risk of me humiliating myself at regionals," he said.

"Well then, what do you have in mind?" I asked, returning to the defensive, innocent side.

"If I risk embarrassing myself, you have to do something equally embarrassing," he replied simply.

"That's logical," I agreed, "But I'm in pep band, that's humiliation enough for one lifetime."

"What about something that doesn't have to do with school-related activities, something we can do here?" he asked, walking into my trap perfectly.

"Like what?" I tried to make one of my quasi-innocent blushes come on, but it didn't quite work.

"You know how people play strip poker?" my heart started to swell with pride from his corruption.

"Now, how would we do that with chess?" I asked.

"Each piece that I take from you, you have to remove one article of clothing, and vice versa," he explained.

"All right, that sounds reasonable," I switched back to vixen-mode, "But what about a larger payoff at the end?"

"What could be a larger payoff than one of us conveniently missing most or all of his or her clothing?" he asked.

"If I win, I'll stay and you have to do whatever I ask you to do tonight," I explained, "If you win, I'll stay, and I have to do whatever you ask me to do tonight."

"Hm," he paused, as if in deep contemplation of his next move, "Although I can't see me losing in either scenario, I'll accept the terms."

We shook hands and continued our game. I'm not going to bore you with a play by play commentary of the actual game, but I will say that I was cutting it a bit close. Then again, he seemed more eager about losing his clothing. I guess he had little to be ashamed of since he was just as well-built and sturdy as a steel-cable suspension bridge from years of being on athletic teams. I wasn't horrible looking, but I had let myself go a bit since I realized that I would never be fit to model for an underwear catalogue. Either way, he didn't seem to mind.

Technically, I started out ahead of the game since I was wearing a sweater, a long-sleeved shirt underneath that, and then a t-shirt under that along with my usual jeans, argyle socks and combat boots not to mention my more unmentionable cotton undies and bra. He had a bit less on, his long-sleeved swim team shirt with a t-shirt underneath as well as a pair of perfectly ironed khakis and the socks he was probably just lounging around in for most of the day before I showed up. I could only assume that he was wearing boxers under his pants, but when around a teenage guy, anything was possible.

He took my knight early in the game, and I found myself growling a bit as I took one sock off and set it down beside me.

"No, socks count as one article of clothing," he insisted.

"Since when?!" I asked incredulously.

"When do you buy socks in sets of one?" his sense of logic astounded me at times.

"All right, but when the time comes for you to take off your socks, you can't recall that rule," I frowned.

"Wow, somebody's being petulant tonight," he laughed, "Why are you being so aggressive about this? It's only a game."

The number one thing someone can say to me to piss me off during any competition is "It's only a game." I sat up straighter and lowered my chin, flashing him my infamous "icy cold glare of doom." He recoiled slightly, knowing very well that he did something to arouse my ire. I was going to use one of my trick plays in order to manipulate him further. I leaned across the table slowly, never taking my eyes off of his. Like a great jungle cat, I moved in for the kill. I kissed him gently, feeling his lips fumble slightly after being caught completely off guard.

"Why am I being so aggressive?" I repeated his question as I pulled back across the table, "I'm so aggressive because I play to win."

Utterly speechless now, he completely forgot about the game. I was pulled back towards him violently, knocking the chess pieces over. After a much deeper kiss, I pulled back, completely awestruck at his sudden metamorphosis from the quiet, cautious guy I knew from school to the more impulsive lover I always wanted.

"In that case, I'd have to say that I withdraw," he grinned, looking at the chess pieces strewn across the table and on the carpet.

"All right then, since you admitted defeat, you have to pay up your end of the agreement," I crawled around the table to claim my prize.

"Gladly," his eyes widened, almost paralyzed in fear like a gazelle that has just felt the presence of a lion hiding in the tall grasses.

I made him lie back as I made my way on top of him. I kissed him, and nuzzled softly against his neck.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked breathlessly.

"Take me," I whispered, nibbling on his earlobe. I know it sounds like it's straight from a trashy romance novel, but yes, those were the exact words that I said to him.

After being the antagonistic force, I was weary of manipulation. Now, I was completely ready for absolute and irrevocable surrender. He was only more than willing to oblige. He rolled over and lay me on my back on the carpet. I clutched at his dark hair as his kisses deepened more and more. I felt the weight of his body against me, not a bit of space between us. I ran my hands up and down his back, reaching underneath his t-shirt since he had lost his long-sleeved shirt earlier in the game.

He sat up and removed his shirt, revealing the sturdy, well-built swimmer's frame I had only seen while taking pictures at swim practice for the school paper. I could hardly believe it. He was one of the most inexperienced guys I had ever met, but just looking at him made it entirely worth teaching him a couple of things. Then again, he seemed to be doing fine on his own as he figured out how to unhook my bra before lifting my shirt over my head so I couldn't see him planting kisses down my neck, shoulders and chest area.

At that point, I was really glad that I had taken off my sweater during the chess game since if had removed it then, I know that the static electricity from the sweater rubbing against the carper would probably be enough not only to make my hair stand on end, but have enough voltage to revive a heart attack victim. Even without possible electrocution, there was a definite pulse of energy between us that night. I felt a slight tingling sensation in my fingertips as I rubbed his bare flesh.

He shivered slightly, "Your hands are cold."

"Well, I know one way to warm them up," I smiled fiendishly as I undid the fly of his khakis.

"Oh God…" he moaned as I slid my hand down his boxers.

I felt him grow hard, pulse throbbing at my touch. The sensation was amazing. It was almost as if the blood was flowing between both of us. We both started breathing heavily, in anticipation of what would happen next. I fumbled with the fly on my pants as he continued hovering over me, eyes piercing through my own. I looked at him in awe. Was this really the same guy who was too afraid to put his arm around me? At this point, I didn't even care. It was a pleasant departure from what I was used to.

After I kicked my pants off from around my ankles and he slid his boxers off, I guided him into me gently. I had a good idea of his size after touching him, but for a moment, I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to get all of him inside of me. Everything felt wonderful despite the pain, so hot and solid, but gentle and soft at the same time.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked solicitously.

"No, not at all, keep going," I sighed softly, feeling myself melt into him.

Other than the slight discomfort of having my back against itchy carpeting, the entire experience was wonderful. We took everything nice and slow since neither of us was ready for the hard and fast sex that I often wrote about in my stories, but it was very enjoyable. In the cold of winter, we were just two people, appreciating what a little bit of body heat could do. When the climax finally built, it wasn't so much of a big, loud, explosion, but a slow burn. I felt myself being consumed by him, yet still retaining all sense of myself and an amount of control over the situation. This was finally what I had been searching for my entire life. I had finally found somebody that I cared about, who cared about me, yet I still kept my head in the situation.

Instead of grabbing my clothes and running out, I stayed. We ended up watching another movie, and this time, he was the first to move when he put his arm around me.

When I finally did leave, he kissed me on his porch as the snow fell softly outside.

"We should definitely play chess more often," he smiled, blushing.

"Yeah, then I'll be able to beat you for real next time," I laughed as he walked me to my car.