Gaming Dandd Pt 10

It was the most intense, most emotionally powerful kiss of my life. We might not have gotten many points for technique, and it wasn't especially passionate. We were both a little too tentative. But my knees were shaking, and I could feel Simran trembling, as well.

I held her in my arms, afterwards, almost unable to believe that she was there. Finally. This was no accident. I hadn't pursued Simran simply because she was attractive, or available. I had been in love since the day I met her. Now, at last, it was real.

We were together.

My letters from England and Wales (the 2nd and 3rd) arrived over the next few weeks. They were proof positive that I had been thinking of her the whole time. Simran was touched - and flattered.

Coop and I moved into our apartment, with second-hand furniture, for the most part. Dad helped me out, and I splurged on a bigger bed. The place wasn't much to look at, from outside, but inside it had lots of wood trim, French doors and built-in bookshelves, which we promptly filled.

I soon discovered that my roommate - great guy though he was - was not quite a neat freak. He was apparently unaware that dirty socks don't belong on the kitchen counter. It quickly became obvious that the task of keeping the apartment tidy and reasonably clean was going to fall to me.

Otherwise, he was an ideal roomie: he kept beer in the fridge, and didn't drink all of mine. Nor did he pilfer my food. Coop was also quite busy at school, so he wasn't always at home. This was something I came to appreciate more later on.

We started hosting D&D games. Nate could borrow a car, and bring Parvani and Cherie over. Or, Parvani could borrow her sister's car. We were deep into the Symenon saga, as we called our campaign, after Nate's duellist-mage. Nate had completed a whole series of sketches of our characters, individually, and in a group.

I passed him a book on Welsh castles, and let him in on a portion of my plans.

I also invited Simran to join us. It would be easy to bring in a High elf character, if she wanted to play one. But she politely declined.

- "Are you sure? You know you'd be more than welcome."

- "I know." she said. "But the reason is the same. I don't want to intrude in Parvani's social group any more than I already have. She needs

something

important in her life that doesn't include me."

I tried, but I couldn't budge her on the issue.

"Besides - what if ... what if something happened, and we split up?" she said. "That could be really awkward."

- "What would that 'something' be?" I asked. "I can't imagine it."

- "Hypothetically."

- "I can't imagine it hypothetically, either."

We were just dating, at this point. We hadn't slept together yet. I was hoping to change that fact soon. Now that I had an apartment, we could have some privacy. I just couldn't figure out how to invite her over to my place - alone - without it seeming like a blatant prelude to sex (which it would be).

We had kissed, again - and the kisses were growing more passionate, more urgent. We had also had a pretty heavy necking session in my Dad's car. It started out innocently, as a goodnight kiss, and then got serious. I started caressing her breast, through her clothes, and she had her hand on my thigh. Then we came to our senses.

Neither of us wanted our first time together to be in the back of my father's car, on the street in front of her parents' house. I wanted it to be special. Memorable. I wanted it to last all night, if possible.

In late September, we had our first disagreement. There was an old pub just a few blocks from the apartment. One side was noisier, with a busy bar, the dartboard and the pool table. The other side was quieter, with comfy armchairs and a big fireplace. People came to this room, alone, to read a book and enjoy a pint. Simran and I both liked it.

But I could sense her mood that night - and it wasn't good.

- "You alright, Sim? Or is something bothering you?"

- "Something's bothering me, Ian." she said.

- "What can I do?"

- "I'm not sure. Do you think that I'm assertive?"

- "You most certainly are."

- "And confident?"

- "Of course. It's one of the things I respect and admire about you." I said.

She made a face - it was halfway between a grimace and nausea.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked.

- "You think that I have everything under control, don't you?" she said. "Ian -

I don't

. I'm as insecure as anyone else. Well ... maybe not as much as some people - but I

do

have my moments."

- "Really?" I was surprised. Simran had always struck me as one of the most confident, capable, 'has-her-shit-together' people I had ever met.

- "What would you do, Ian, if you saw my sister make a face like

this

?" Simran's lips tightened, and quivered, and she blinked rapidly. It looked as if she was about to cry.

I

had

seen Parvani make

exactly

the same face - after her disastrous party, and when she tried to tell me that she wanted to go out with Nate.

- "I'd hug her. I'd offer her a shoulder to cry on." I said. Because that was exactly what I

had

done.

- "Did it ever occur to you that I might need - or want - the same?" asked Simran.

She was right. I just hadn't seen her that way. Simran was always so cool, so collected - it hadn't occurred to me that she could prey to doubt, or fear - like everyone else.

"Do you remember, Ian, when I broke my engagement? You were one of two people who offered me uncomplicated, unconditional support. And I loved you for it."

- "I'm so sorry, Sim. Do you need a hug, right now?"

- "I don't need one." she said. "But that doesn't mean that I don't

want

one."

That was no hardship. I gave her a hug, and stroked her hair. After a few moments, she sat back.

I recognized her expression. "There's more?" I said.

She nodded. "I'm happy, Ian, that you treat me like an equal. You value my opinion, and you listen to me as if what I have to say matters. I love that about you."

- "But ..."

She smiled. "Sometimes, you show me

too

much respect. This relationship can't be a restaurant, where I'm the customer and you're the waiter."

Is it any wonder that I loved her? She managed to express the crux of the matter in a simple analogy, without hurting my feelings.

- "You want me to ... take charge a little more?" I asked.

Simran sighed. "Yes, dear one. Sometimes, I would like it if you just

told

me what we're going to do. Or what

you

want. It gets a little uncomfortable up here, on the pedestal."

So I was being

too

considerate. I was deferring to her wishes a little too much. Simran wanted me to be more assertive. More demanding?

- "Would you like to know what

I

want, Simran?" I asked.

- "Yes Ian - I would." she said, with a big smile.

Okay then. Here goes.

- "I want to take you home - to my apartment." I said. "I want to slowly take off all of your clothes, and I want to make love with you. All night long. That's what I want."

Simran's smile didn't disappear. If anything, it grew broader.

- "That sounds wonderful." she said.

I was about to say 'Really?' - but I bit my tongue.

"Finish your drink." I said. I found our waitress, and quickly settled our bill.

We walked back to my place, hand in hand. Coop - bless his heart - wasn't home. In hindsight, I ran around a little too much - I wanted a couple of candles for my room, to set the atmosphere. Also, I wanted my Shadowfax tape playing. It was music to make love by, if I'd ever heard it. But I shouldn't have left Simran alone while I did those things.

I led her to my bedroom, and pulled her into my arms. She was so damned beautiful. I trailed kisses down her neck, and across her collarbone. Then I made a big production out of unbuttoning her shirt.

Her bra was nothing short of spectacular. But then, so were the breasts that it supported. I had to remind myself to breathe. Simran's breasts were large, heavy and pendulous - more than a handful.

I kissed every exposed inch of her bust, and then let my lips roam across her stomach. I unfastened her pants, and pulled them down over her generous hips.

Perhaps I should rephrase that. By 'generous', I mean full, pleasing, exciting. Simran wasn't skinny - but there was very little fat on her body. I was somewhat in awe, in fact, of the beauty I was unveiling.

I slid her panties down her legs, and then manoeuvred her to my bed, so that she had to sit down on it. My lips and hands traveled back up to her breasts - I couldn't help myself. But I exercised some self control, and licked a wet path across her ribs, down to her upper thighs.

Simran trimmed her bush, very neatly. Below that, her lower lips were shaved clean. And that was a good thing, because she had prominent, puffy labia, and a pronounced clitoral hood. She didn't protest when I lowered my head to kiss and lick her.

I worshipped her. I treated her body like a pagan temple, where I could perform my devotions. I licked, and sucked, and tongued her. Unlike Diane, Simran was no firecracker. I had to work for quite a while before she reached a climax. But I loved every moment.

She had already pulled my shirt over my head. I stood, kicked off my shoes, and rapidly shucked my pants and underwear. I quick-stepped over to my dresser, and pulled out a box of condoms.

- "I'm on the pill, Ian." she said. "You don't need that." Simran lay back on my bed.

I was in a state of mild disbelief. With the exception of my unfortunate accident with Tanya, I had never had sex without a condom.

Simran was wet, and eager - but I didn't want to hurt her. I penetrated her slowly - carefully. It took me six or seven strokes to get fully lodged inside her. Then I realized that I was making love with Simran D. - the unattainable, too old for me, sister of my best friend, engaged to somebody else, woman of my dreams - my Cinnamon Girl.

I probably should have put on different music - stupid thought. And then I flooded her insides, pouring a stream of cum into her. The feeling was so intense, I lost track of time, and forgot where I was. Except that I was with the girl of my dreams.

She loved me. Simran loved me enough to sleep with me. I felt like a giant, a champion. She clung to me, holding me tight. I kissed her cheek, her hairline. And then we fell asleep together.

***

I turned 23 in December. It was something of a milestone for me. I was in love, with the most amazing woman. We made love frequently - two or three times a week. I was doing well in the Masters Program, and Dr. Welsh seemed pleased with my progress on my thesis.

I had the freedom of my own apartment. My friends all seemed to be happy, and everyone was in good health. Our D&D games were as good as ever- and in some ways, even better. The storyline I had concocted let me be creative, while my thesis research was methodical, and analytical.

Just before the Christmas break, I went to Dr. Welsh's office, and asked him to recommend one of Dr. Bennett-Smythe's publications. I was just curious to see how she wrote.

Welsh didn't even have to get up. He turned his chair, and reached into his bookshelf. He grabbed a volume, and passed it to me.

- "Return it when you're done." he said. "And Merry Christmas."

Bennett-Smythe didn't use her first name - Yvonne. Instead, the book used her initials - Y.A.C.. Interesting - there was no picture of her on the flyleaf, no short biography at the back. If I hadn't met her, and just stumbled across the book, there was no way I would have known that the author was a woman.

Clever. This way, people would judge her work on its own merits. It was a history of the Suffragist movement in Britain during the First World War. I read the whole thing over the holidays. I was impressed.

***

I was a little nervous about Christmas dinner with Simran's family. Her parents knew that we were dating, but we hadn't had any formal gatherings with them as a couple - Thanksgiving, for example, had been with my family.

Cherie loved Simran. Jill was plainly impressed, too. As for Dad, I thought that his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Simran was polite, and classy, and beautiful -

and

she got everyone else talking about themselves. She had them in the palm of her hand after the first half hour.

But Mr. D. might be a tougher nut to crack. He already knew me, of course, but that just killed the novelty factor. I thought he liked me, but maybe not as a match for his elder daughter.

I needn't have worried. Parvani and Nate were also there, and Mrs. D. plainly approved of Simran and me. Who knows? Maybe she hadn't cared all that much for Arjun, either.

- "Well, Ian," said Mr. D., "I thought that you might be joining us for a family occasion, one of these days. This wasn't quite the way I had anticipated ..." he glanced at Parvani - "but I

am

pleased to have the company of

two

fine young men. Very pleased. Whatever the age difference."

- "He's not the

only

younger man in a relationship at this table." said Simran.

- "How did you meet?" I asked her mother. Mrs. D. was happy to tell the story, while her husband beamed as she described him as 'handsome', and 'charismatic'.

Later that evening, when Nate and I were saying goodbye, Simran saw me to the door. She kissed me, in full view of her Dad. "You did well." she said. "I knew you would."

For New Year's Eve, we went out for a late dinner with Nate and Parvani. It was quiet, and comfortable, and intimate. After midnight, we went our separate ways. Simran and I bundled up, and walked back to my apartment. We would have the place to ourselves, since Coop would be passed out, drunk, at a friend's party across town.

I took my beautiful girlfriend to bed, and worshipped every inch of her wonderful body. I took my time, letting her build slowly to orgasm. Then I spooned with her, and entered her from behind. I tried to last as long as possible, hoping that I could bring her to a second climax. I couldn't hold out that long, though, and gasped as my own orgasm swept over me.

We fell asleep, with my arms wrapped around her.

I awoke before her in the morning - my arm was asleep. I managed to slide it out from beneath her without waking her up. Then I could gaze at her beautiful face as she slept. Somehow, I thought that I caught a glimpse of what Simran would look like when she was in her forties - or even older.

I wanted to be around for that.

Without disturbing her, I slipped out of bed, and started a pot of coffee. Then I headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. When I came out, wrapped in a towel, Simran was at the door, dancing a little two-step jig. She obviously needed to use the toilet, but was too shy to do it while I was there.

I dried off, pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and poured myself a coffee. I heard the shower running, and double-checked that I had all the ingredients for a decent breakfast, whatever she might like.

When the shower stopped, I gave her another ten minutes, but she was still in the bathroom. I knocked on the bathroom door, and - on impulse - entered. What the heck - we had seen each other naked plenty of times. There was nothing to be shy about.

Simran was seated on the edge of the tub, naked. She was drying her long, black hair - which was obviously a lot of work.

- "Happy New Year." she said, with a smile.

- "And the same to you." I answered. "I came to see what you'd like for breakfast."

- "I can smell the coffee. That's a good start." she said.

I'm not sure what came over me. I intended to offer her eggs, bacon, cereal and toast - whatever she wanted. Instead, I stood there, gawking at her awesome nakedness. Simran saw what I was doing. She just smiled, and continued to dry her hair, making no move to cover up.

For some reason, utterly unknown to me, I walked over. I lifted her chin, and tilted her head back. I bent over, and kissed her lips. My hand travelled down, brushing across her nipple - Simran shuddered - and I cupped her full breast.

Simran's hand came up, to brush against the front of my shorts. On impulse, I pulled them down, so quickly that my growing erection snapped up to slap against her hand. She immediately wrapped her fingers around it.

Both of my hands were occupied with her breasts, fondling one, while teasing the nipple of the other. Then I acted completely out of character. I lifted my leg, and put my foot on the edge of the bathtub. That immediately raised my cock several inches - closer to her face.

It was a bold, brazen invitation - and something I had never done. Simran had performed oral sex on me before - but I have to admit, I was much more comfortable going down on her. And it would have struck me as disrespectful, to stick my cock in her face, expecting her to suck it.

And yet here I was, doing just that.

Simran moaned, and took the tip of my erection between her lips. She swirled her tongue over the head, and then took me in her mouth. I continued to manipulate her breasts, and licked my fingers, so that I could lubricate her nipples.

She surprised me, then, by trying to swallow me whole. Simran began sliding her mouth up and down my shaft, bobbing her head. One hand was around the base of my cock; the other came forward to cup my balls, and roll them between her fingers.

It was all tremendously exciting, and I felt the tightness that told me I was about to come. I have no idea what possessed me: I pulled back, popping my erection out of her mouth. Then I shot a massive stream of semen onto her chest.

My aim wasn't very good. My knees buckled a bit, and the second jet struck her shoulder. The third and fourth spurts hit her breast. Simran's eyes went wide, as she watched me come all over her.

I had to grab for the edge of the shower, and hold onto her shoulder, to avoid falling over - that's how powerful the sensations were.

- "Wow." said Simran.

My come was all over her chest, and even in her hair. I was about to say 'Sorry' - but I didn't. Instead, I said: "You'll need another shower."

I lifted her to her feet, and helped her step into the tub. Again, I have no idea what demon was possessing me - I climbed in after her.

- "What?" she said.

- "I made the mess." I said. "I have to help you clean it up."

I shampooed the bottom half of her hair, and then squirted shampoo too high. I ended up washing her hair all over again. Simran moaned, and leaned back against me as I massaged her scalp. Who knew that a scalp massage could be so sensuous?

Then I soaped her back, and reached around to lather up her breasts. Simran was grinding her butt cheeks back into my groin - with predictable results. Soon my erection was pressing against the crack of her ass.

Simran could definitely feel it. She reached back with a soapy hand, and took hold of my cock. She slid her wet fingers up and down my shaft.

Then she leaned forward. And she began rubbing the head of my cock against her pussy lips. I was amazed.

It wasn't that Simran was Little Miss Prim and Proper. And I wasn't shy, either - at least, I didn't

think

that I was. Yet I had never anticipated - not in a million years - that she and I would be fucking in my shower.

It wasn't 'making love' - I didn't kid myself. It was primal, animal - and completely out of control. Once she had me in position, I thrust forward with my hips, and penetrated her deeply.

- "Aaah ..." she groaned, from deep in her throat.

I grabbed hold of her hip with one hand, while continuing to maul one breast with the other, and I began to thrust into her - fucking her hard and fast. I had no idea what I was thinking - most of me was blind to anything other than the mad rush to orgasm.