Gaming: D&d

Thank you for your comments and encouragement. I'm editing Chapter 6, but 7 is on hold while I finish a story for the Halloween Contest. It won't be long before I get back to Ian, though..

***

- "Oh! Oh!

Derek!"

she said.

It didn't occur to me until later that she might have just called out another guy's name in the throes of passion. I knew, right then and there, that Tanya had expected Derek to be in this room. She was fucking the wrong guy.

There was no smooth way to make her aware of that fact. I was so close to coming that I was afraid to move. So I said her name, softly. Tanya peered at my face.

- "Tanya." I said, a second time.

- "Ian? IAN?"

It took a moment for her to realize what was going on. Then she scrambled to get off me - just as I got off. As she lifted her lips, my traitorous cock slipped from inside her, and snapped upwards, against my belly. The first jet of come splashed off my chin. Then my cock jerked, and the second stream hit her chest.

The third and subsequent jets of come sprayed across my stomach.

Mercifully, I didn't see Tanya's face as she sprang off the bed. I could only imagine how horrified she was. She snatched up her clothing, from the floor - and fled from the room.

That was how I lost my virginity.

***

Tanya left Nate's house before I could catch her - though what I could possibly have said if I had caught her, I didn't know. I followed her example, and walked home. My thoughts were, predictably, a mess.

How could we go on, after this? Would she even want to hear from me?

Though I hadn't done anything wrong, I felt that I needed to apologize. I called her, but she wasn't home. I called Derek: somehow, I thought that he deserved to know. No answer. I called both of them a dozen times, but never got a chance to speak to either one.

I couldn't figure out why Tanya had gone out with me, if she had feelings for Derek. By 'feelings', of course, I meant 'wanting to fuck him'.

We had planned to attend a New Year's Eve party together. That didn't happen. It wasn't my fault - I knew that - but I still felt as if it was.

On the 2nd of January, I got together with Nate, and I told him the whole thing. No clinical details, but ...

- "Oh my God." he said.

After another cup of tea, I apologized to him.

- "I think I've wrecked our friendships." I said. "And our D&D group."

- "You didn't do anything, Ian." he said. "None of this was even remotely your fault."

- "I was

there

, Nate."

- "Bad luck. That's all it was." he insisted.

- "What should I tell Parvani?" I asked. I had to tell her something.

Three days later, I had dim sum with Parvani and Nate. She was a bit tense: she knew that something had happened. I told her the basic story. I tried - but I couldn't quite look her in the eye.

- "Oh, no." she said. "Ian - I'm so sorry."

I wanted to cry. I had fucked up our friendship with two wonderful people, and destroyed our social circle - never mind our gaming group. Yet Parvani could feel

my

pain. She got up, and came around the table to give me a hug. The waiters had to roll their trolleys around her.

- "It wasn't your fault, Ian." she said.

I agreed with her. But why did I feel so shitty?

***

Neither Tanya nor Derek ever returned to game with us, or to socialize. There was no cross-country running until spring, so I didn't see her there, either.

The only positive side to this debacle was that Alan stopped coming, too.

- "He blames you for Tanya leaving." Nate told me, over a cup of tea.

- "Good Lord!" I said. "He doesn't know what happened, does he?"

- "No - no! But he thinks that she's cutting herself off from the rest of us because of you."

- "What? What does he think that I did?" I asked.

- "According to Alan, Tanya told him that you were pursuing her - that you wouldn't stop asking her out. He described it as 'stalking'." said Nate.

- "That makes no sense." I pointed out. "Why would she go out with me - several times - if she didn't want the attention? All she had to do was say 'no'."

- "Alan was jealous." said Nate. "He had feelings for Tanya, himself."

- "Alan?" I was dumbstruck. "

Our

Alan?"

- "He could see that you had a crush on Tanya, and -"

- "Wait! What do you mean, 'He could see'? Who else knew? Did Derek know?" I asked.

Nate sighed. "Everybody knew, Ian."

- "What? How?"

- "You weren't very subtle. We could all see the way you looked at her. The way you tried to start conversations with her ..."

- "Wait -

we

? Did Parvani know?" I asked.

- "We all did." said Nate.

Shit

.

I wasn't sure if Parvani still had some kind of crush on me, but I had thought that I was being discreet. My pursuit of Tanya was supposed to be low-key, patient and slow - yet everybody knew about it. What a dork I was.

My mood was pretty bleak, but I managed to channel what energy I had into my studies. Then, in February, I got some good news: Burnsie was getting out of jail early. Good for Burnsie; not so great for our friendship.

His parents blamed his friends for what had happened. They didn't include me in the 'bad influences' - but they didn't specifically exclude me, either. They wouldn't let Burnsie re-connect with any of his old friends.

His father hung up on me when I phoned their house. That left me no option but to write Burnsie a letter, and mail it. I never got a reply. My Dad found out that they had moved.

- "Out west, somewhere." was all he knew.

***

We started gaming again in March - just Nate, Parvani, and me. It was an interesting dynamic, because three characters, no matter how balanced, can't handle every eventuality. We had to rely on henchmen, which gave me a multitude of opportunities for role-playing distrust and betrayals, personality conflicts, and disputes over the sharing of treasure.

Parvani surprised me, though, by choosing to play a cleric.

- "You

always

get stuck playing the healer." she said. Clearly she had been paying attention. "Here's your chance to try something different."

Nate was ready to play a fighter again, so I opted for a mage - a spell-caster. I named him Taliesin.

Parvani brought a friend from school to join us. Annette was short, but cute. She was also super-nice. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being set up - that it was some kind of sneaky blind date.

There was no chemistry between us - at least, on my side. And after joining us for three games, Annette never came back.

- "Too bad." said Nate. "I liked her."

- "So did I." I said.

- "Really?" said Parvani. "I have her number, if you ever want to give her a call ..."

- "I liked her, Par - I don't want to date her."

And that, strangely enough, was the beginning of an epiphany for me.

Nate had me pegged correctly. I was a romance junkie. I wanted to be in love, and for everything to be perfect. Then my magical girl and I would fall in love, and have incredible sex.

'How's that workin' for ya?' I asked myself. I was 20 years old, and had had sex a grand total of one time - by accident.

- "I think I have to be more aggressive." I told Nate.

- "Aggressive? Meaning?" He looked concerned.

- "Well, I can't just wait for a girl to notice that I'm a decent guy. Even if that

did

happen, I would still be waiting for her to tell me that she's in love with me, and wants to make love. It's not the most successful of strategies."

- "No." he agreed.

- "You know, if I had been more aggressive with Tanya, she would have told me that she was into Derek - or at least she would have told me that she wasn't interested in me. And that would have spared us both a lot of embarrassment." I said.

"And what's the worst that can happen? I tell a girl that I like her, she says 'No' - and that saves me a lot of time. No more futile crushes. This unrequited love bullshit is getting old."

- "What does that mean?" asked Nate. "What're you going to do?"

- "Just what I said. I'm going to more aggressive. If I like a girl, I'm going to tell her. Ask her out."

I wondered what would have happened if I had asked Annette out. I was moderately sure that she would have said yes. And what if I had asked her to have sex with me?

Because that was the second part of my epiphany. I wanted to have sex. On purpose. I had saved my virginity for my first love, hoping for an experience that I would remember forever.

Well, I got my wish. Part of it, anyway.

***

I had my own semi-private reading spot, in the library. It was on the 4th floor, where all of the science books were. I'm not saying that science students don't read, but they didn't read on the 4th floor. They just picked out the books they needed, and left.

It was also a place where I was unlikely to run into anyone I knew, so I wouldn't be distracted. I could curl up in a semi-comfy chair, and plow through the readings I needed to finish.

But on this occasion, someone was sitting in my usual spot. I recognized her from one of my classes. The prof called her Jennifer. I just thought of her as 'the hot chick who sits up front'. All I usually saw of her was the back of her dark brown hair. I occasionally heard her voice when she answered a question, or made a comment.

And at the end of each class, I watched her leave the room. So did most of the red-blooded males, because she had a very, very nice body.

I didn't disturb her in the library. I just chose another seat nearby. It wasn't

quite

on purpose, but from where I was sitting, I could look up and see Jennifer, without having to turn my head.

She didn't even glance my way. I guess I didn't register on her radar. It didn't faze me at all - just another girl who was out of my league.

I read for quite a while, despite the distraction. Jen couldn't seem to get comfortable, and would often shift in her seat, or stretch. The latter movement was my favourite, because of the way her prominent breasts would strain the fabric of her sweater.

She saw me looking.

- "These seats are uncomfortable." she said.

- "Too comfortable, and you'd fall asleep." I said. "Especially if you're reading the stuff from Professor Myers' class." I held up my book, so that she could see.

She smiled, and held up the same book. Then she tilted her head to one side.

- "You're Ian, right?"

I guess Jen

had

been paying attention. Myers prided himself on knowing - and using - our names. She had probably heard him call me by name when I answered a question.

- "I am." I said. "It's Jen, right?"

- "Yeah." Another smile. Wow. "You're pretty smart, Ian - can you help me out?" she asked.

- "If I can, sure."

- "What's this Teapot Dome thing?" she said. "I don't want to go all the way down to the 2nd floor to look it up."

Had this been the 21st century, Jen could simply have googled it. But in ancient times, information like that was found only in books - and the history books were on the 2nd floor (encyclopaedias on the 1st).

I moved over and sat in the chair next to her.

- "Did you miss a class - beginning of February?" I asked. "Because Myers spent a lot of time on it. I have a feeling it might show up on our exam."

- "Oh shit." she said. "Really? Guess I better read up on it. Can you just give me the basics, for now?"

My chivalrous instincts rose to the fore. I will admit, though, that it didn't hurt that Jen was very attractive. So I gave her a summary of the Teapot Dome scandal. President Warren G. Harding put a lot of his friends into office in the early 1920s. Albert Fall, the Secretary of the Interior, leased Navy oil reserves in Wyoming to private oil companies at very low rates - without following the bidding process.

When Senator Walsh found out that Fall had taken bribes from the oil companies, the shit hit the fan. Fall was convicted, but none of the people who bribed him ever went to jail. And none of the mud stuck to the President.

- "Biggest scandal before Watergate." I said.

Jen smiled again . She had wonderful teeth. "That was awesome, Ian." she said. "Short and sweet, but I get the whole picture.

You

should be a Prof. 'When the shit hit the fan' is perfect. I wish my professors explained things like that."

She stretched again. At close range, the effect was devastating. The fact that she might have been doing it on purpose did nothing to detract from its effectiveness.

"I'm starving." she said. "Are you hungry?"

Even the old Ian could have picked up on that hint. The new Ian snapped it up.

- "There's a great Mexican place, not three blocks from here." I said. "With nachos to die for."

In addition to her luxuriant hair, Jen had a perfect nose, sensuous lips, and lovely eyes hovering between brown and hazel. She also had high cheekbones, too, which made me ask: "What's your background, Jen?"

In Canada, that's a reasonably polite way of inquiring about someone's ethnic origin.

- "Ukrainian." she said. "Though we think that my grandmother might have been Turkish. How about you? Ian sounds Scottish. Or Irish?"

- "Both." I admitted. "But help me out here: Jen can't be short for Jennifer. That's not a Ukrainian name. Is it?"

She laughed. "No - the name on my birth certificate is Yevgenia. I used to hate it."

- "Yevgenia." I repeated, exactly as she had said it. "I think it sounds wonderful."

- "Thank you." she said. "But you didn't have to hear my schoolteachers mangle it every year, when they took attendance on the first day."

As I had hoped, Jen approved heartily of my favourite restaurant. She liked the nachos, and loved the coffee. She was hungry enough to order enchiladas as well.

"The food is

really

good." she said. "I can see why you come here often. And the waitress seems to like you, too."

- "Pardon?"

- "Oh, please. She keeps looking at you." she said. "She's probably wondering if you have a girlfriend."

I couldn't for the life of me tell what Jen was talking about.

- "I'm sorry - I don't know what you mean." I said.

Jen tilted her head again. "Really? Smart, sweet ...

and

shy?"

At that point, I made a conscious decision to be the new Ian.

- "Yevgenia," I said, "I think you're flirting with me. But I'm not entirely certain. Would you go out with me on Friday, so that I can find out for sure?"

- "Friday? What did you have in mind?"

- "A movie. Followed by dinner. There's an Austrian place downtown that serves a schnitzel too big for the plate." I said.

- "Don't you have it backwards?" she said. "Isn't it usually 'dinner and a movie'?"

- "Absolutely not." I said. "We'll see the movie first, and then we can discuss it over dinner."

- "That sounds good." she said.

***

- "Jesus Christ, Nate." I said. "I have a date with her on Friday."

- "That's awesome."

- "No it isn't - what the fuck am I supposed to say to her?"

Nate sighed. "Ian - she agreed to go out with you - she must like you. Just ask her about herself. People love to talk about themselves."

- "You're a genius, Nate." I said.

***

- "So - tell me about yourself, Ian." said Jen.

Damn - I hadn't been expecting that. I ended up blabbing about my knee injury, and discovering who my real friends were.

- "That must have been harsh." she said. "Have you dated a lot since then?"

- "Oh, you know ... a bit." I said. Thank goodness - she seemed to think that I was being modest. "How about you?"

- "I was in a serious long-term relationship, with my high school sweetheart. But we broke up just after Christmas." she said.

- "I'm sorry." I said.

- "No, you're not." she replied, with a twinkle in her eye.

I finally got her talking about herself. That allowed me to just listen, while I gazed my fill. I couldn't decide if Jen was

a) cute

b) pretty, or

c) gorgeous.

It seemed to depend on whether she was

a) laughing (which she did frequently)

b) talking or

c) listening, or just looking mysterious.

It was difficult to keep her talking. She was a bit self-conscious, or maybe just remarkably aware.

"I'm doing all of the talking." she'd say, or "I'm monopolizing the conversation". Then she would ask

me

a question.

By the end of the night, I couldn't have told you if Jen was kind, or generous, or patient, or ... lots of things. But I did know that she was intelligent, and leaned to the alternative in terms of music, fashion, and politics. I was also growing more confident that she was interested in yours truly.

She lived in residence on campus. I walked her back to her building.

- "I'd invite you in," she said, "but my roommate is a bit ... fussy."

- "That's alright." I said.

- "Maybe ... another time. If you want to go out again." she said. Damn, she looked hot when she said that, while tucking her hair behind her ear.

- "You know I do." I said.

I leaned forward, to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned her head, and met my lips with hers. After a moment, I felt the tip of her tongue, seeking mine.

- "Thanks, Ian. I had a wonderful time."

- "Me too, Yevgenia. Me too."

***

American History was on Tuesday afternoon, but I couldn't wait that long. I phoned her Sunday evening, and asked her out again. She had a paper to finish, but promised that she would be done by the end of the week.

- "Friday night?" she asked. "And if you need an incentive, my roommate will be going home for the weekend."

At this stage, the sound of her voice was enough to get me hard. On Monday, I bought a box of condoms.

On Tuesday, Jen abandoned her seat in the front row to sit next to me, near the back.

- "I want to see things from your perspective." she said. "I also want to see how you take notes." She wrote down virtually everything the Prof said - which meant that she occasionally missed something because she was struggling to keep up. My notebook, by comparison, looked like a shorthand pad, in point-form, with abbreviations, and arrows.

Jen was intrigued. She watched what I wrote down, and copied what I did - with additional info when she thought she needed it.

Obviously, it was distracting to have her sitting beside me. For one thing, she smelled divine. But I had to avoid turning my head to look at her. Act like it's no big deal, I kept reminding myself.

After class, she was very enthusiastic. "You're so smart!" she said. "I feel like I understood everything better. I'm gonna do it your way from now on."

- "I'm not that smart." I said.

- "Sure you are." she said. Then she kissed me on the cheek, and whispered in my ear: "

I am so looking forward to Friday

."

We spoke on the phone the next night. Jen suggested that we skip the movie this time, and go straight to dinner.

- "I know a great Vietnamese place on Weston road." she said. "Just off campus."

I was a bit surprised when I met her outside the residence. Her hair was ... messy. But I soon realized that the seeming disorder was deliberate. Her makeup was perfect.

Our conversation over dinner followed the same pattern as our first - we seemed to take turns asking each other questions. But we spent a fair bit of the time gazing into each other's eyes.

At the end of our meal, the waitress offered us coffee or dessert.

- "No, thank you." said Jen. "We can have coffee back in my room."

- "I didn't know they let you have coffee makers in rez." I said.

- "They don't."

I tried to keep my cool as we walked back - even though I would have preferred to jog. Act like you've been there before, I kept telling myself. I don't know if I fooled her, or if it even mattered. She seemed as eager as I was. Jen took my hand, and squeezed it all the way.