The Game

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The Game Page 2

by Jeanne Barrack


  He took Kip’s cock deep in his mouth and licked it like it was a candy cane while Kip played with Tony’s balls and slid his hand up and down his penis in rhythm with Tony’s sucking.

  Marcie couldn’t tear her eyes away from the two men. She loved watching them; watching the play of their muscles as they moved, the sweat dripping from their skin as they fucked. She touched her pussy, damp and still aching, and thrust her fingers deep, fondling her nub that begged for attention.

  She whimpered, her cries drawing Kip’s attention and he turned his head, his eyes hot, watching her as she writhed with self-induced pleasure.

  “Lover, we’re forgetting our slave. Don’t you think she deserves a reward for her dance?”

  Tony turned his face, Kip’s prick still between his lips.

  He lifted his mouth and attempted to speak.

  “Not yet. I’m not there yet.”

  His words held little meaning for her. She was wrapped in a hazy world of sensation that focused on only one thing—how close she was to fulfillment. Her fingers moved faster until the ache was gone and she lay limp upon the bed.

  Tony collapsed on top of Kip.

  He rolled off, panting, trying to catch his breath.

  “I’m sorry, Marcie. That was selfish of me. Let me make it up to you.”

  Marcie smiled. “You bet your fine ass you will. Starting now.”

  She couldn’t remember how many different ways they’d screwed that night, only that, when it was all over, when they lay once more together on top of the rumpled sheets, the smell and taste and feel of sex filling the room, they’d told her it was their last time together.

  She couldn’t believe it at first, but finally, she did.

  She squirmed now, wishing she could relieve the ache between her thighs, but that would take both Frank and Dave. She almost laughed out loud.

  When they’d pulled up at the house, she had actually been excited.

  “Shari, you’ve heard me talk about my roommate, Frank. Marcie, don’t let his quietness fool you—just give him a chance. Frank’s a realtor, so I asked him to look at the cabin. I’m thinking about putting it on the market as a rental.” Dave smiled. “I’m glad you’ll be there to keep him company, Marcie.”

  Shari had pulled her aside then and whispered urgently in her ear. “He’s available. I didn’t want to tell you ’cause I knew you’d be pissed, but after all, you have to get out if you want to get any.” She grinned. “Come on. He’s almost as good-looking as Dave. It’s just for the weekend. You can’t back out on me now.”

  Well, he was good-looking.

  “Seems we’re riding in the back together.” He offered his hand and then drew her into his arms for a quick hug. “Glad to have you aboard.”

  And she was charmed and hopeful. Then she grimaced. There was Frank’s reflection in the window. He gazed at Dave with a longing he barely concealed.

  Could no one else see it?

  Well, no way would she spill the beans. If Frank hadn’t come out yet, she wouldn't be the one who outed him.

  She was just glad she’d packed her vibrator.

  * * * *

  “Hurry up, guys! The snow is really coming down!”

  Dave flicked on one of the old-fashioned table lamps, and a soft glow illuminated the square room, revealing his companions’ snow-covered forms.

  “Thank God the electricity is still working.” Shari shook the snowflakes from her hair and blew on her reddened fingers. “We’ll get some coffee on while you boys get the bags.”

  Dave nodded.

  “Good idea. The kitchen’s on the right, behind the door. I’m sure you can find everything. The caretaker keeps the pantry full, Gran said. We’ll be back in a minute.”

  Marcie and Shari tossed their coats on hooks behind the cabin door and disappeared into the small kitchen.

  “Dave, Frank, get in here!”

  “What the hell happened?” Dave strode into the center of the kitchen and turned around slowly. The kitchen was gutted. No stove, no fridge. It was a mess. The cabinet doors hung half off the hinges. Frank cursed in disbelief.

  Dave sank into one of two rickety chairs and shook his head.

  “My grandmother hasn’t been here for years, and the last time my grandfather was here was when I was just a kid. He left me the cabin when he passed away last year. The son of a bitch caretaker must have been ripping them off all this time!” He slammed his fist on the table. “When I get my hands on him, I’ll kill him!”

  He stood, opened up one of the few cabinet doors not falling off and brought out a broom and dustpan.

  “Shari, can you sweep up while I go through the cabinets and see if there’s any kind of food left? Marcie, please check the other rooms and see if there’re any blankets or sheets in the bedrooms? We’ll be stuck here for at least tonight.”

  Marcie hurried off and Frank took a crushed box of kitchen matches from the counter.

  “There’s some firewood in the other room. I’ll get a fire going. Just for added warmth.”

  “Thanks, bro.” Dave ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry things got so fucked up.”

  “No problem. Things happen.”

  * * * *

  “Well, we have tuna fish, several cans of soup, some crackers whose freshness date expired two years ago, some instant coffee, tea, a couple of cans of creamed corn, an unopened jar of peanut butter, honey, dried potato flakes, a half-empty canister of sugar, some salt, and, most important of all, a flashlight and a can opener.”

  Shari laughed. “I wanted to lose some weight, just didn’t plan on doing it this way.”

  “You’re perfect. I like a woman with something to hold onto.”

  Dave snagged her around the waist and drew her back against his chest. He sank into one of the chairs and cupped her breasts, slipping his hands beneath her pullover sweater.

  No bra.

  He groaned.

  “Dammit, Shari, you know what touching you does to me. Why didn’t you wear a bra?”

  She spread her legs so that she was riding his thigh. He could feel the dampness right through his jeans.

  “Fuck, are you wearing any underwear?”

  “I thought you’d let someone else do some of the driving.” She turned her head and bit his ear. “I wanted to be ready.” Her nipples pebbled in his hands. “You should have let Frank take a turn.”

  He slid one hand beneath the elastic waistband of her skintight ski pants and slipped his finger between her swollen folds. “We can’t do this. Frank or Marcie will be back any second.” He pressed down on her clit. “Tease. You know I can’t make you come now.” He grunted as she wriggled in his arms.

  “Later.” He withdrew his hand and brought it to her mouth. “Just a little something to whet your appetite. Taste.”

  She licked his fingers, swirling her tongue around each one, nipping and sucking them. She grinned. “And that’s from me to you.”

  “Did you do this to all your lovers?” He pinched her nipple and she squealed. “Probably not. You wouldn’t still be alive if you messed with anyone else the way you mess with me.”

  He shifted her off his lap and smacked her behind.

  “Let’s see what Marcie found.”

  Shari and Dave went back into the cabin’s main living area, their arms around each other’s waists.

  A fire blazed in the fireplace, and a stack of blankets and pillows were piled on the love seat.

  Marcie and Frank sat on the rag rug in front of the flickering flames.

  “Well, are we going on a starvation diet?” Marcie smoothed her hands over her ample breasts and tiny waist and grinned. “It won’t work, you know. I never can seem to lose weight.”

  Dave shook his head. “Not quite. We have some food. Not much.” He paused. “But, we have the most necessary things.”

  “Each other?” Marcie asked.

  “Nope. A can opener and a flashlight.”

  Everyone laughed and the tensio
n dissipated.

  “There are two bedrooms and one bath,” Dave continued. He glanced over at Frank and Marcie. “You guys won’t mind sharing, right? I’m going to turn off the heat in the bedrooms to conserve energy and we’ll bank the fire. We’ll divvy up the blankets and sheets. I’d suggest keeping your clothes on in bed. If you want.” His teasing brought smiles from the girls, but no answering one from Frank.

  “We’ve got soup and crackers for tonight,” Shari said. “Coffee and crackers for breakfast, and hopefully, by then, the snow will have stopped and we can…what’s wrong?”

  Dave shook his head.

  “I know this area. The road sucks, and in the best of times, there’s hardly any phone reception here.” He grimaced. “I didn’t count on not having any food or a kitchen.” He sighed. “I need to check on the generator too.” He shook his head. “What a fiasco.” He put his coat back on and picked up the flashlight from the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Marcie rose. “I’m going to look through the closets again. Maybe there are some extra clothes packed away.”

  “I’ll get supper on the table—such as it is.” Shari headed to the kitchen. “I wonder if there are plates or cups or utensils? Dave didn’t say.”

  *

  “Guess I’ll just keep the fire going.” Frank tossed some crumpled newspaper on the logs and sank back onto the rug, staring into the flames.

  What the hell should he do? He had planned on sleeping on the couch, leaving the bedroom to Marcie. Now he’d have to share the same room, hell, the same bed. Despite keeping their clothes on, he knew she’d expect something more from him than simply body heat.

  What the fuck should he do?

  A blast of frigid air and a stream of curses announced Dave’s return to the cabin.

  “What did you find? Nothing good, I can tell.”

  Dave shook his head.

  “That son of a bitch! He never refueled the generator. We have enough for maybe three days if we coddle it. No lights after dinner; collect water in whatever containers we find.” He paused. “Let’s get the girls, and I’ll give them the good news.”

  * * * *

  “Well, that’s it. As for personal hygiene,” he took a deep breath, “I hope you all brought lots of deodorant, because this place is going to get pretty rank otherwise.”

  The group sat around the fire in stunned silence, taking in Dave’s words. Marcie still held the box she’d found in one of the closets on her lap. An improvised apron made from a towel hugged Shari’s waist.

  Dave leaned back against the couch and bowed his head. He spoke again, his voice muffled.

  “When the weather lets up, the snowplow will eventually clear the road to the cabin. The problem is, since no one is supposed to be here, we’re a low priority. We could try calling them, but the cabin phone isn’t working either.” He raised his head, impotent fury in his eyes. “The bastard was most likely pocketing the money for most of the bills.” He clenched his hands. “If I had that mother…” He loosened his fists. “We’ll get through this, I promise. It’s only a few days.”

  Shari got up and brushed off her hands. “Well, I found a couple of pots under the sink, and we have one mug—minus its handle—a glass with one small chip, and one unscathed measuring cup. We’ll divvy up the crackers and dine by the romantic glow of the fire.” She chuckled. “’Cause we only have two chairs. Dave, can you help me bring things in?”

  “Sure.”

  As soon as the door shut behind them, Dave turned Shari around.

  “Thanks.” He swiped a patch of dust from her cheek with his thumb. “You’re being a lot more forgiving than I deserve.”

  “Why? It’s not your fault. It’s your Gran’s caretaker who should be strung up by his prick, naked and gnawed on by hungry wolves.”

  “Whoa!” Dave’s laughter rang out. “That’s some bloodthirsty scenario you cooked up.”

  “Well, I just don’t think you should feel guilty for someone else’s shitty behavior.”

  Shari turned on the faucet, letting the water run into a large bowl she’d found while rummaging through the kitchen. As soon as the water got as hot as it could, she poured it into the saucepan with the condensed tomato soup. On the table was a napkin with a half sleeve of crackers and the drinking vessels she’d gathered.

  “Well, it’s not Mickie D’s, but it’ll do.”

  “We’ll just have to find other ways to kill the hunger pangs.” Dave leered playfully. “I can think of something else I’d like to eat.”

  “And if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll let you.” Shari strutted ahead of him, brushing her ass against his crotch as she passed by.

  With a rueful chuckle, he followed her out of the kitchen.

  * * * *

  “Hmmm, I never knew lukewarm canned soup could taste so good.” Marcie rubbed her stomach and licked off a few crumbs from her fingers. “What was the seasoning you put in it, Shari?”

  “A dash of salt and pepper.” Shari giggled. “I plan on sending the recipe to Rachael Ray.” She glanced over to the cardboard box placed next to Marcie. “Have you opened it yet?”

  Marcie turned to Dave and pushed the carton over to him. “I thought you should open it first, take a look inside. There might be some personal stuff you don’t want to share.”

  “Thanks, Marcie. I doubt there’s anything private, but you never know.”

  Dave slowly unfolded the tucked-in flaps. He reached in and drew out a white silken shawl. Knotted fringes decorated the edges and deep blue stripes ran down it lengthwise. A small blue six-pointed star was embroidered on each corner.

  “It’s lovely,” Shari whispered. “What is it?”

  “It’s a Jewish prayer shawl.” Marcie lifted up one end and let the fringes filter through her fingers.

  “It’s way too small, though.” Dave smiled. “It’s mine. I haven’t seen it in almost twenty-two years. I never expected to find it here.” He glanced at the others. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

  Chapter 2

  “Maybe finding it means my gramp’s looking out for us.” Dave took the shawl from Marcie, refolded it, and placed it on top of the pillow nearby. “I didn’t know my folks sent it back to him. I didn’t wear it much.”

  “He didn’t have the time. Dave shot up the summer after he turned thirteen. Grew six inches and towered over me until I was sixteen.” Frank grinned. “He never went through an awkward stage; he morphed right into Franklin High School’s star center.” He gazed at Dave with unconcealed pride. “Didn’t the Knicks want to recruit you right out of school?”

  Dave grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, but that wasn’t what I wanted. It was your cousin Joey who showed me what I wanted to do—become a cop.”

  Shari reached over Dave’s shoulder and took out a small four-sided object.

  “What’s this? It’s a top, right? Don’t Jewish kids play a game with this on Hanukah?”

  Marcie chuckled. “I stopped playing with one of these when I was ten.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Now, how did it go?” She picked up the little top. “Each side is a Hebrew letter in a sentence that means…damn, I don’t remember.”

  “A great miracle happened there. I was fourteen the last time I played.” He punched Frank lightly in the shoulder. “Remember? You were there with me too.”

  Although Frank returned his smile, he cringed inwardly. The winter he turned fourteen was the first time he confronted his feelings for Dave.

  “God, what a party! My twin cousins Rachel and Rebecca had a party for all the kids in the family. Naturally, I brought Frankie along. Couldn’t let him sit in his room studying all weekend.” His thoughts drifted. “What did we call them?”

  “Rack and Ruin.”

  Dave laughed. “Right. They came up with a whole new set of rules for a game they called ‘strip-dreidel.’ How did it go?” He pointed to one of the sides on the top. “The first person who spins a gimmel takes off three things he’s wearing and puts t
hem in the pot. If you spin a nun—that’s this one—you don’t do anything and the next player spins. If you spin and you get this—a hay—you take half of the items in the middle and can put some clothing back on. If you spin and the top lands on the side with this fancy-looking letter—a shin, you have to put on one piece of apparel from the person next to you—no matter whose. You keep playing until someone is totally naked.”

  Frank smiled. “We didn’t quite get to that point. Your uncle came in when I was wearing Rachel’s blouse and she just had her bra and panties on.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Man, he smacked me upside the head.”

  “Yeah, me too. He thought I had come up with the idea.”

  “Let’s play.” Shari sounded eager. She twirled the small wooden top in her hand.

  Marcie stared at her friend. “Are you nuts?”

  “Why not? It’ll be fun. It’ll help pass the time.” She cocked her head. “Why don’t we play a game every day until we get out of here?” She shrugged. “No laptop, no TV. Marcie couldn’t find any cards.” Her eyes crinkled. “No guitar for a sing-along. Why not?”

  Dave nodded.

  “Yeah, why not? But listen, no guilt trips later. It’s just a game.”

  “Hey, I have an idea too,” Marcie said. “Let’s tweak the rules a bit. I mean, it’ll get boring if we play the same game every time. How about whoever gets naked first, gets to choose what to do with whoever they want?” Her gaze traveled to each of the others. “What do you think? Are you…game?”

  Slowly, each one nodded in agreement.

  * * * *

  Dave looked around the little circle and grinned. The firelight cast interesting shadows on the seminaked bodies seated on the floor. Shari wore the bra and skimpy panties she’d grabbed from her suitcase before the game started—and Frank’s socks. Marcie only had on a scarlet-colored thong. The valley between her double-D breasts was deep in shadow. Her nipples were pebbled—Dave didn’t know if it was from excitement or the chill in the cabin. Frank looked the most bizarre. He had so many clothes piled on he could barely move.

 

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