"The Game," wasn't really a game but more of a sexual dating adventure. During my third year at college I met a stunning young woman named Michelle. We were soul mates, partners on a different level than most, and we shared a great deal with each other including the desire to remain physically free in our relationship. We both enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh too much to limit ourselves at that age. It was Michelle who first conceived the details and eventually devised this plan to sate our physical appetites.
Michelle had been bragging to her friends about how good I was in the sack, how versatile and varied my style could be, and she found a few women who wanted to be "set up" with me for a "date." These dates were to be conducted anonymously, with the end of the evening predetermined, a cross between a blind date and a one-night stand. We had a code word to stop the action and a level from 1 to 5 of the kind of activity the lady wanted, 1 being a gentle prolonged affair and 5 being nearly a rape fantasy. I would identify her in a bar by a specific pin she wore, a red, white and blue airplane, pinned to her red blouse or sweater.
My first date had been a rousing success. Michelle had sent me a voluptuous young lass with an appetite for excitement and I had started off with a level 4 adventure. She was a hot one and the sex that night had been incredible. We had even dated briefly after that night but Michelle exercised her rights to keep my penis under her control and made us quit. It's just as well because the girl was as stupid as she was hot.
A few weeks after that first encounter Michelle told me about another willing participant who wanted to sample my services. I was excited about it and readily agreed to meet the girl the following evening. So far Michelle was fabulous at choosing women for me and I was sure she was right when she told me I would enjoy this one.
The next evening I went to our designated bar a couple of blocks from my apartment. The Ugly Mug was a little hole-in-the-wall kind of place frequented by townies and most of the crush of alcoholic college kids avoided it. It was long, narrow and dim and it was usually quiet for a bar. I arrived early and took up my normal spot at the far end of the bar where I could see the entire place and everyone in it. I ordered some Irish coffee to keep me company and waited for my date to arrive.
She was a little late and I was on my second cup. I could tell she was a red head and of medium height right away, but the rest would have to wait until she came closer. She moved with a purpose and scanned the bar quickly. There was enough of a Friday night crowd present that I thought I could remain anonymous for a short time, but as soon as she saw me she came right for me. I found out in a moment why.
"Becka?"
"Hi there. You remembered!" She said brightly as she gave me a hug. Becka was Michelle's old roommate from last year. I had met her once or twice but we hadn't really interacted much. Becka was about 5' 5" and nicely built, though there was nothing really special about her. She was pretty in a way, but again, nothing special. Her eyes were a little small and high on her face and her nose was long and slender, but certainly not freakishly so. I have a soft spot for women who look unique and Becka certainly did. She just had a way of looking odd and I never could quite figure out why. Her red hair was short and curly, and for a moment I pondered that I seem to have had more than my fair share of redheads in my life. But those are other stories.
"This is a little strange. I've never done this with someone I knew before."
"Don't sweat it. Michelle said you could roll with the punches." She giggled a little at that. "Besides, I already know I like you so you don't have to worry about that. I don't know if you like me, but that's your job tonight, right?"
"Kind of, sure." I replied. "We are here for a mutual arrangement, so it's not quite like I'm your personal love slave for the evening. By the way, do you have the pin?"
"Oh, yeah," She dug in a pocket and showed me the pin, a red white and blue sparkly airplane I had given Michelle several months ago. She put it back in her pocket. Her movements were quick and jerky, almost clumsy, as if she were drunk or nervous.
"Listen, do we have to do the whole 'word and number' thing? I just want to talk to you about what I want and then go do it, OK? I'm not good with the whole role playing thing."
"No problem," I replied. I was flexible for a good lay.
"Great. I don't drink and the smoke in this place is killing me so can we go back to your place right now?" She was bouncing up and down on her toes and seemed now more worked up and nervous than before. I quickly agreed, dropped my payment on the bar and followed her bouncy steps out.
The apartment building was within stumbling distance of the Mug so it didn't take long. On the short walk she remained jittery and tense. Her fidgeting hands were in constant motion but she said little. Once at the apartment I let her in and closed the door behind us. My roommate spent most of his time at his girlfriend's apartment so I didn't have to worry about him.
Once inside she moved around the apartment, snooping lightly and commenting on the place. I sat down at our little kitchen table and invited her to do the same. She flopped down in the chair, hands still fidgeting wildly. She must have been nervous. I held out my hand on the table and she looked at it for a moment before she jerkily put one of her slender hands in mine.
"Listen, there is no need to be nervous. I will respond to whatever you want and I'll stop at a word." I bent down to kiss her trembling hand. "You need have no fear of me."
"I'm not afraid. It's just been a long time. I'm excited. Plus I've never really, you know, started a date like this. The guy usually makes all the moves."
