I don't know if it happens for you like this, but sometimes I just look at someone and know we are going to fuck. Immediately. Not, "I hope we do." Or, "Maybe this will happen." Simply, "Oh, we're going to fuck. Alright." Utter certainty.
It isn't like that very often, but it's happened a few times now, so I'm confident in my assessment. It doesn't hurt that I'm cute, but I'm not a model or anything. I'm not the kind of woman who could pick any man and say, "I think I will fuck him." And get to.
But sometimes I absolutely know.
The time in question was a few years ago and I love thinking about it still. It was when I still lived at home. I had just finished my second year of college and was celebrating my younger Sister's high school graduation with friends and family. My posse of girlfriends were there, my Sister's closest fellow grads, my parents, grandparents, cousins, neighbors and old family friends. It was a fun, informal events, packed with people.
My girlfriends and I were talking in the front room, while most people were in the great room and the kitchen. We college women were pretending we were above all this, but we were playing a Game we had played since junior year.
The four of us had been playing a Game we got from a movie. This Game determined who we slept with, how many lovers at a time, and what we did. It was a simple dice rolling Game that we made up and shaped over the years into our own specific, ever evolving Game.
It always depended on the available men, and where we were at in our personal journeys. We had all played the Game to determine to whom we gave our first blow-job too, and how many boys we gave them to. Mine had been to Marshall William, Chad Torbet and Devon Smyth-Shore.
We rolled to lose our virginity- Richard Dansforth and Mark Herman- and to try any number of sex act that the others claimed to have tried already. It was a sexual competition, and an initiation into the deeper mysteries of sex.
There were enough men at this gathering to make the idea of the Game possible, but since many of them were my relatives, I had been spared from committing to playing. The others were working up their nerve to try and sleep with one of my family members, or guests, in my house, in the middle of the afternoon and it was getting me hot thinking about sneaking off to fuck in my own room.
Sadly there were only boyfriends of my Sister's friends, cousins or gross middle aged neighbors for me to choose from. We still hadn't started sleeping with married men or guys with girlfriends, but that did start later.
Then the doorbell rang.
My Dad used to be a musician, my Mom had been an actress and singer and they had met during a musical theater tour they had done together in the nineties. Now he runs a company my grandma started and my Mom is a Drama Teacher, but they have all these cool friends from back then.
I answered the door and saw my Dad's best friend Callum. I'd known Callum for as long as I could remember. He was a guitarist who toured with all sorts of performers as a go-to player. He wasn't a permanent member of a band, usually, but he made his living playing for solo artists as a tour player or as a session guy on recordings.
To be honest he had always seemed a little square when I was little. I liked him fine but he was weird and loud and laughed at all my Dad's dumb jokes. But the last time I'd seen him a year ago he seemed different, somehow.
Now as I opened the door I almost didn't recognize him. He had lost weight, he looked super fit, he had grown his beard really long and looked like a cool hippy. Except for the fact that he had a lot of grey in his beard, at a glance he looked like he was in his late twenties. He had somehow become a Silver Fox.
When he looked at me I saw him register that I was now a woman. He hugged me, and his tight, firm body pressed along mine and I felt a flush wash over me as I responded with pleasure in his embrace. He hugged me really intimately, but not sexually. He didn't press his cock into me or anything; it was more that he really cared about me as a person, not just an extension of my father.
I knew immediately we were going to fuck.
I played hostess and showed him around. I watched him greet my Dad, and then I even hung around to hear about the latest news. Callum was playing with a young band of his own. They had been using his connections to open for bigger artists and- at least hearing it from him- they were getting a lot of attention.
He seemed really grounded, confident, and sexy. My Mom came over and gushed over him, then my grandmother, who he had worked for as a musician, and I could even see some of my Sister's friends trying to get a look at him. It was as if a celebrity had dropped in.
Over the years I had met so many actors and musicians I suppose I'd forgotten than most people never meet actual artists, and that artists are different. He stood calmly and confidently in the centre of a big group, telling stories and listening closely to other's stories. There was a vibe that he was perfectly comfortable here, even though he looked and dressed like he could be a New York nightclub. Almost everyone else there looked square and suburban next to him.
Finally I went back to the girls who pressed me for information. They had all met him before but not one recognized him. I was glad I hadn't been the only one that had never noticed how hot Callum was. I was sure he hadn't been that cool when I was a teenager, and later, looking at old photos, I saw he wasn't.
By this point two of the ladies had rolled and chosen both who they were going to seduce, and what they were going to do. They knew me, and could tell I wanted to play now, because of Callum so the dice were handed to me.
Courtney spoke to me formally, in the voice we all adopted when challenging the others. "There are three men here you could have, Kyle" (My Sister's odd childhood friend; cute, but probably a virgin.)"Collared Shirt," (Ted, a single teacher from my Mom's school who was there for some reason) "and Callum." They all grinned knowing I wanted him. They wanted him too.
"Tiffany could have five. Those three as well as Josh and Emmet." My cousins.
Rather than try and explain I'm just going to tell you what happened that day and hopefully you can piece the Game together. First Tiff and I rolled the die to see who went first. I rolled a five and she rolled a three. I went first.
Which meant, in this case, I rolled the die after assigning numbers to each guy I could potentially fuck. 1-2 were for Kyle, 3-4 were Ted, and 5-6 were Callum. Once that was established I rolled and... I wouldn't be telling you this story if I hadn't rolled Callum, with a five.
Since it was the middle of the afternoon, and no-one was drinking that much, except us, we all agreed that sex was all that was required of us. We didn't have to pull off anything difficult or particularly risky. Although I might have argued that fucking anyone in my parents' house was difficult. That meant that I didn't have to roll to see how many men I fucked, that was the norm for us now.
I also didn't have to roll to perform any specific sex act the ladies felt I was due to perform, or hadn't tried yet. The latter was getting scarcer, so we'd have to get inventive in the future. But when this story happened I still lived at home and my house was full with people we all had known since we were children. My parents still treated me like a child.
I had stayed at home to go to school because I didn't need to go anywhere; the best music program in the country was in my hometown, and not far from where we lived. But it was beginning to suck trying to have a nightlife.
I hadn't been laid in months, and I knew that was a big factor in my willingness to risk playing the Game in this setting. That, and the huge thrill of seducing a man who thought of me as a little girl.
Once all of us had a target, we set off. The way we worked was both competitive and co-operative. We would be able to use each other in any way necessary to pull off our goal, but we were each trying to be first. That got us the most points.
Oh yeah, we have a running tally of total points scored, and had yearly targets for the title of Champ Tramp. Champ Tramp was Tiffany this year. I hadn't won since senior year because I didn't have my own place. I was falling behind.
I mingled with my Mom for a while, knowing she would go to Callum soon, she always did. She had a crush on him, but I didn't think it was sexual, more that he listened to her with new, interested ears, unlike Dad who did his best, but...
As I hoped, she used bragging about me as an excuse to talk to Callum almost as soon as I joined her. Mom told him about my singing and my grades. I had competed in a band competition at school but didn't win because the rest of the Sisterhood were terrible musicians. I didn't care, it was fun to sing with them, but it was embarrassing to tell Callum about.
As Mom bragged about her little girl, I couldn't get enough of how Callum looked at me. He knew me, had known me my whole life. He had memories of me I didn't even have because I had been too young. I felt young under his gaze. His eyes are blue, but they change colour with his mood, which I'd noticed years ago.
I'd never seen them this dark before, and I realized it was because his pupils were dilated. Once I stopped feeling like an insecure child, I assessed him again and was suddenly sure that he was attracted to me. His entire being was focused on me, and I flushed once again with lust.
I peeled out after a tiny bit of flirting, right under my mother's nose, and I started tidying the debris of the party. This gave me the chance to let his hunter's instinct kick in, please my Mom and become invisible to most of the crowd.
While I was cleaning, I decided to troll for his attention. I wasn't dressed provocatively, but I have a tight, sexy body. I bent from the waist so I could stick out my ass, which looked great in tight jeans.
I caught Callum looking. His eyes glanced up at mine and after just a Moment, I looked away. Did I see him checking me out? Did I mind? He wouldn't be sure.
Then I let some wine from a discarded glass spill on the floor beside him. I put down my handful of stuff and used some paper towel to wipe up the spill. I cleaned and scrubbed vigorously, trying my hardest to flash my tits as he looked down at me.
I was wearing a long sleeved t-shirt, with a knitted vest over it. The t-shirt had a deep V-neck. I rarely wear a bra because my tits are only an A-Cup. I love showing off my boobs, I think they are super cute, perky and sexy. When I thought he's had enough of a show I stopped wiping the floor. I glanced up as I stood and saw his eyes were locked on my chest. Then his eyes met mine again and he smiled.
It may have been a smile of thanks for cleaning, or it could have been a secret smile of awareness. I wasn't sure. I reached out with my empty hand and stroked along the back of his arm, grazing his triceps. His shirt was soft and his flesh firm.
"Do you need anything?"
"No, thank you." How had I never seen how poised he was, how grounded and still? It was like being next to a monk, except he radiated sexual confidence too.
