"The shop is run by an elderly gnome couple. They specialize in common potions, some sort of miracle cure, and exotic foods." Looking across the table, I took note of my wife, Kathy, and our friend Joe, looking over their character sheets.
It was a typical Sunday evening, having friends over and playing tabletop RPG's (role playing games). Mick, another friend, couldn't make it out this week. So, instead of continuing the scheduled campaign, I ran Joe and my wife on some random side quests.
"Exotic foods, eh? Like what?" Joe asked, roleplaying his orc fighter, Tork. Joe likes playing Tork as a lovable brute. Not too bright, but with streets smarts, constantly eating something, and does the first thing that springs to mind. I knew that an exotic foods shop would pull him into roleplay.
Taking a swig of my beer to buy time to think, I looked over my notes for something appropriately exotic from the fantasy setting. Picking an infamous shapeshifting monster, I turned back to the table. "Have you ever eaten mimic?" I asked in the voice of the gnome shopkeeper.
"Mimic, huh? What's that like?" Tork inquires.
Across the table, Kathy bursts into laughter, "Mimic! Oh shit! Roll for initiative, right?! Try a sample and, POW, mimic eats your face!" Her normally boisterous attitude was further fueled by the bottle of wine she had drank.
None of us minded when Kathy got a bit silly. It made for a fun night of gameplay, even if it could slow down progress.
It didn't hurt that my wife is beautiful. She has that elusive ability to be stunningly gorgeous, cute, and seductively sexy all at once. Even in her late thirties she still attracted a lot of attention from men, and sometimes women. Her long brown, naturally curly hair, now with sexy streaks of white, made her into the perfect MILF. She exercises regularly, keeping her five-foot three frame tight, especially her round peach of an ass and full hips. Topping it all off were her lovely C-cup breasts, with silver dollar sized areolas surrounding her perpetually aroused nipples.
Being married twenty plus years to her, I knew very well that all my male friends lusted for her. Not that I minded, I have never been the jealous type. She is mine and always will be, and I liked that other's desired her, I couldn't blame them.
Our friend Joe was a bit different. Forty and still single, he was a great friend, but quiet and fairly private. Usually, we did not know if he was dating or not. Only once did he introduce us to a girlfriend. She was great, and they looked insanely happy and in love. Sadly, her parents were extremely controlling, stalking, and harassing Joe until he finally broke things off. I vividly remember comforting him the day that happened, it was truly heartbreaking.
Joe was a great guy, five-foot seven, in shape, intelligent, witty, and fun. Kathy and I often spoke about how shocking it was that he was still single. Most than once, we had joked that she should give Joe a pity-fuck. Make certain he did not marry the first girl to open her legs for him, whether she was right for him or not. We would laugh it off, or sometimes roleplay her seducing him as we had sex. She had never gone beyond the odd off-color joke with him in real life. Until now.
"What does this mimic meat taste like?" Joe asked, motioning for another beer.
Kathy, a bit tipsy, went to grab more beers for us.
"It's consistency is like calamari, but it tastes more like duck," I told Joe.
"How much?"
"Ninety gold."
Joe spat out, "Ninety gold!"
Chuckling, I spread my arms wide, saying, "do you know anywhere else you can procure prepared mimic meat!"
Paying the gold, Joe queried, "what does it look like? Does it look like a chest or a sword?"
Handing us our beers, Kathy let out a laugh. "Ha! Meat sword! You slipped that in there!" She settled down in her chair and locked eyes with Joe as it dawned on her how her statement sounded. The three of us burst into gales of laughter at Kathy's unintentional double-entendre.
"Yeah, Babe! He slipped that meat sword right in there! How does it feel?" I joked.
Pouring another mixed drink into her glass, Kathy wiggled her bum around on her seat. "Oh, I don't know. Kaya has never been with an orc before," she mused playfully, referencing her character, Kaya, a human artificer, who was naive and gullible.
"Kaya, you've never been with an orc?!" Joe asked as Tork.
Kathy slipped effortlessly into her character. "Oh no, Daddy wouldn't ever let me associate with orcs before." Playing into her character's background.
Tork pressed her, "that is a shame, you know what they say about orcs."
"No, what?!" Kaya replied inquisitively.
Kathy leaned back, smiling ear to ear in a predatory way. I could tell at once that she was getting turned on, this role playing was obviously pressing the right buttons for her.
Tork explained with a condescending tone, "oh little girl, you can't handle the orc."
"No fair!" Kaya argued, "I'm not a simple village girl anymore, I'm an adventurer! I can handle whatever challenge comes my way."
Kathy slid her chair next to Joe, eyeing him hungrily.
"Is it your orc 'meat sword?' Do you think it is too much for this little artificer?" she asked, running her right hand across her body seductively.
She leaned closer to Joe. I saw her left hand moving under the table and Joe jumped slightly. He looked down briefly then back at Kathy. "Uh, your husband?" he said nervously.
Laughing girlishly, Kathy assured him as Kaya, "That's silly, Tork. You know I'm not married."
Joe's head rolled back slightly; I assumed because she was rubbing at his 'meat sword' over his pants. The atmosphere grew thick with sexual tension as it dawned on us that we were now playing a new game.
On occasion, my wife and I have swung with some of our friends. As far as I knew, Joe had no clue about those encounters.
Joe risked a glance in my direction. With a smile, I gave a reassuring nod. He nodded back, looking a bit overwhelmed, before directing his attention to 'Kaya' as she pleaded with 'Tork' for an education in orcish intimacy.
"Do you find me pretty, Tork?" Kaya asked, using her right hand to squeeze and tweak her breast as her left continued its work under the table.
