by Amy Cross
She smiles.
“What's funny?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she replies, “just... I wouldn't be doing this if I hadn't had four shots of vodka while we were out.”
Now it's my turn to smile. I've never seduced anyone in my life and I feel desperately out of my comfort zone, but I guess I'll never get another chance. I wriggle a little closer to her, so that my breasts are pressed more firmly against her, and then I carefully place a hand on her belly, while trying to make the move seem casual.
“You're warm,” she says with a smile.
“You too.”
I keep my hand in place for a moment, before reaching it a little further along, closer to her chest. I don't feel remotely sexual right now, just awkward and out of place, but so far she hasn't pushed me away and I figure she must have started to realize what I'm initiating. Leaning a little closer, I realize I can smell her skin, and I look up at her face and see that there's a nervous smile on her lips.
“You okay there?” she asks, suddenly shifting onto her side so that we're facing each other.
I nod, while placing a hand on her waist. “You?”
She nods. “Just a little weird.”
“Why?” I ask.
She shrugs. Her eyes flash down to my chest for a moment, as I put a hand on her waist, just above the top of her jeans. Her skin feels warm, but at the same time I feel as if I want to turn and get out of here.
After a moment, I move a fraction of an inch closer, until my left nipple and her right brush against one another for a few seconds. I still don't feel sexual or aroused, but at least it's looking as if my efforts are working. Whatever else this means, I should be able to complete the second challenge.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She nods. “You?”
I nod. “I guess we're going to keep asking each other that, huh?”
She smiles.
“Are you okay?” I ask again.
“I am. Are you?”
“Sure. Are you?”
She laughs.
Leaning closer and pressing myself against her a little more firmly, I place my lips on the side of her chin in a kind of strange half-kiss, before thinking better of the move. At the same time, I'm close enough to be able to smell her hair now, and a moment later I feel her hand on my side, almost touching the side of my left breast. Reaching down, I take her hand and move it up, placing it firmly against my nipple. I look at her mouth for a moment and see that her lips are slightly parted, and finally I realize that it's now or never. I lean even closer and kiss her gently, and she responds. For the next few seconds, our lips brush together, before she pulls back slightly.
“So this is just messing around, right?” she asks softly, with a hint of concern in her eyes. “I'm not... You know I'm not like that, right? I'm not a lesbian.”
“Me neither,” I tell her. “Yeah, it's just messing around.”
“Okay, cool,” she says, with a faint smile. “I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page, that's all. As well as the same sofa.”
“I think so,” I reply, smiling nervously.
Deep down, I feel as if I want to scream and run out of here. Jess is my friend and she has been for several years, and it feels wrong to be doing this with her. At the same time, I keep imagining tiny cameras watching us, and I've gone so far past the point of no return, I don't even remember what it was like to be a good person. There was a line, once, that I would never have crossed, but I guess somehow I missed it as I went speeding past. I'm an awful person now.
“Do you mind if I take these off?” I ask, reaching down and touching the waist of my jeans.
“Well, don't you...” She pauses, clearly nervous. “I don't know, isn't that going a bit... far?”
“Just to be comfortable.”
She smiles awkwardly. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice tense and terrified. She's trying not to seem bothered, but I can tell that she's a little worried; at the same time, if she really hated this, she could just push me away and ask me to leave.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I slip them down and kick them to the floor, until finally I'm wearing nothing but my knickers. I press myself a little more firmly against Jess, feeling a little pressure against my crotch, and for the first time during this encounter I actually feel a brief flash of pleasure.
“Do you mind if I take these off too?” I whisper, reaching down to touch the waistband of my knickers.
“Do you want to?”
I nod.
“Okay,” she says quietly, her voice cracking a little with nerves as she keeps her eyes fixed firmly on me.
As we maintain eye contact, I slip my knickers down and then drop them to the floor. Jess keeps staring at me for a moment, before glancing briefly down at my crotch and then back at my eyes. An embarrassed smile crosses her lips, and I swear she's actually starting to blush. We've been friends for a few years, but I don't remember us ever getting naked in from of each other before.
“Is this okay?” I whisper, as I let my inner thigh brush against her leg.
She nods.
Moving closer, I feel the lips of my vagina pressing against the fabric of her jeans. I keep waiting for her to make the next move, to strip all the way, but she seems almost paralyzed, as if she's scared. Figuring that it's up to me to push things further along, while still wondering how much further I need to go, I reach down and start unbuttoning her jeans.
“Do you -” she starts to say.
“Do I what?”
She pauses. “Nothing.”
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask as I unzip her jeans and see the white fabric of her knickers.
She swallows hard.
“Say if you do,” I tell her, before slipping two fingers into her underwear. Moving the tips down, I feel the lips of her vagina, and a moment later I realize that she's wet. I slip my middle finger between the lips, immediately feeling a rush of wetness, and I quickly find the nub of her clitoris. Avoiding the tip of the clitoris itself, I start moving around the base, spreading her wetness around. I keep my eyes fixed on her, and at first she seems frozen with shock, before finally she leans her head back a little and lets out a faint, telltale gasp.
“Like that?” I whisper.
“We're drunk, right?” she replies.
“We are?”
“Yeah, that's why -” She tilts her head further back, thrusting her chest into the air in the process. “That's why we're doing this,” she gasps. “It's the only reason.”
“Sure,” I reply, letting my fingertip run close to the head of her clitoris and bringing a murmur of pleasure from her mouth.
“Oh fuck,” she continues, her voice tense and hushes as she places her hands on her belly. She moves her fingers up to her breasts, but she doesn't seem to quite know what to do next. Running her palms across her erect nipples, she lets out a slow, long moan and subtly presses her crotch more firmly against my hand as I continue to massage the area around her clitoris.
Leaning closer, I kiss the skin at the edge of her vagina, and I realize I can smell the sweet wetness.
I slip one finger deeper between her labia and inside her, while keeping another finger pressing close to her clitoris. Leaning further down, I realize it's now or never, so I reach my tongue out and gently lick the area at the edge of the lips, taking care to go close to the clitoris but not quite onto the head. She lets out another groan of pleasure and, either deliberately or without thinking, she opens her legs wider, as if she's inviting me to go further. As I arrange myself, I feel her slipping her bare legs between mine, and a moment later I feel her pressing against my crotch.
This is all about her, though.
Moving my hands away, I lean closer to her body and start to run my tongue between her labia. As I do so, she lets out a louder, harder grunt that sounds as much like pain as it sounds like pleasure, but I keep going, trying to think back to the way I used to like it when Mark went down on me.
Mark
/> 2008
“So I have to seduce her?” I ask, sitting in the hotel bar in another of the made-to-measure suits that Lady Red acquired for me. “And then I have to take her up to the penthouse and... go all the way?”
She takes a sip of her cocktail. “That's the general idea.”
“And then what?”
“And then fuck her,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Do I have to draw you a diagram? Take the lessons I've taught you over the past few weeks and give her the ride of her life.”
“But then what?” I ask.
“And then decide whether or not she's capable of going further in the game.”
Leaning forward, I lower my voice as a couple of people wander past. “How the hell am I supposed to know that? I barely even understand what the game is!”
“You know as much as you need to know,” she replies, “and you'll pick up more information as time goes on, as and when it becomes relevant.”
“But -”
“Mr. Blue is the first point of contact for girls who enter the game,” she continues. “If you deem that the girl is suitable, she will be passed along to Mr. White.”
“Who I haven't met yet.”
“Who you haven't needed to meet yet.”
“And what will he do to her?”
“He'll test her further. Physically and mentally.”
“What does that mean?”
Sighing, she takes another sip from her glass. “You're full of questions tonight, aren't you?”
“It's just that this is all becoming more real,” I point out. “This girl, this Rebecca whatever-her-name-is, what's going to happen to her if she isn't taken further in the game?”
“She'll go on her merry way and never know what almost happened to her. Believe me, that's now how things used to be in the old days of the game.”
“And what if she has to go forward? This Mr. White guy, he won't...” I pause for a moment. “He won't hurt her, will he?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because she's a human being!”
“Who you've not even met yet! How can you care for someone you haven't met? The whole idea is preposterous!” She takes another sip. “Each person can only care so much, Mr. Blue. If you try to care for the whole world, you spread your concern so thin, it doesn't mean much. If you just care for a few souls, on the other hand, you have so much more to give to each of them. Don't you agree?”
“She's still a person!”
“Who is?”
“Rebecca,” I reply with a sigh. “The woman I'm meeting tonight!”
“Oh, her,” Lady Red replies, clearly struggling to hide her disgust. “Don't worry, she's nothing, and the truth is, she most likely will remain nothing until the day she dies. The odds of her actually moving forward in the game are close to zero -”
“Then why -”
“We just have to be prepared,” she continues. “When the right girl turns up, you need to be ready.”
I watch for a moment as she sips at her drink, and it's clear that she's hiding something. She seems to be desperately on edge, and I overheard her on the phone again this morning, talking in hushed tones about the Longdale solution that seems to be so important and yet so secret. I've given up digging for more information, but I can tell that I'm only being given a few facts at a time. At the same time, there's something else I overheard, a name that stuck with me for some reason, and I've been trying to hold back from asking all day. Now, however, I feel I want to at least let Lady Red know that I'm not some idiot who can be kept in the dark.
“Who's Elly Bradshaw?” I ask finally.
She stares at me, and I can tell that I've knocked her a little off balance.
“I heard you mention that name earlier,” I continue.
“You were spying on me?”
“I came to find you, and you were in the bar, talking about something on the phone. You mentioned someone named Elly Bradshaw a couple of times. She seems important, that's all.”
She pauses.
“Is she linked to this Longdale thing?” I ask.
“You'll find out when the time is right.”
“Why can't I find out now?”
“Because that's not how the game works.”
“Is Elly Bradshaw linked to Mr. White?”
“Elly Bradshaw is...” She pauses again, and then her mask seems to slip just a little, taking her smile and confidence in the process. “Elly Bradshaw is a few years from coming to fruition. If you meet her, it'll be in 2012 or 2013. For now, she's being looked after by -”
“Who's Victoria Carrington?” I ask.
“Oh, for fuck's sake,” she hisses, setting her glass down, “why don't you just go ahead and tap my fucking phone?”
“I overheard -”
“You seem to overhear a hell of a lot.”
“I'm sorry,” I reply, “I didn't realize that the ideal Mr. Blue would be a compliant idiot who can't think for himself.”
“Victoria Carrington is...” Another pause. “Victoria Carrington is training to do some work with Elly, that's all. When the time comes, everything will be drawn together and if you're still around, you'll be fully brought into the loop. If you're not still around, there'll be another Mr. Blue sitting in your place and he'll learn the truth instead. I'm sorry if that makes you feel disposable but, well, you are.” She sighs. “We all are. The only thing that matters is bringing the game to an end.”
“Who's Mr. Raven?”
“You don't need to know that yet.”
“Is he like you and me, and Mr. White?”
She shakes her head.
“Then who is he?”
“He stands outside the game and observes.”
“And you trust him?”
She pauses. “Let me deal with that. Mr. Blue, you have enough on your plate without trying to assume my burdens as well.”
“But if -”
“And there's your date for tonight,” she adds, glancing past me. “Perfect timing, don't you think? I found some pictures of her online, she was rather immodest and she has quite the most perfect tits I've ever seen. You can thank me later.”
Turning, I see a tall, blonde woman entering the hotel foyer. Her dress is short, exposing long, bare legs, and I can't deny that on a purely physical level, I'm immediately attracted to her. Still, with that attraction there comes a sense of danger, of foreboding, and I don't immediately leap from the chair to go and greet her.
“That's Rebecca,” Lady Red continues, picking up her drink and taking a long gulp. “Lucky boy, aren't you? Now go fuck her and tell me what she's made of.”
Part Four
Running
Elly
Today
Standing in the cramped bathroom in Jess's apartment, I listen to the sound of her moving about in the front room. It's only 7am, but after sleeping on the sofa, we both got up a short while ago and I quickly muttered something about needing the toilet before hurrying in here and locking the door. To say that the atmosphere out there is strained would be the understatement of the century.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I can immediately see a hint of guilt in my eyes. I just used my friend, and in the process I sank to a new low. I swear, I don't even know myself anymore.
Once I've finished getting dressed, I pause at the door before sliding the lock open and then heading out into the main part of the apartment. I can hear Jess in the kitchen now, and I can't help thinking that she's avoiding me. Making my way to the table by the window, I sort through the mess until I find my purse, although a couple of unopened letters catch my attention and I pick one of them up.
“Hey,” a voice says behind me.
Turning, I see Jess in the doorway. She immediately looks away, as if she can't quite bring herself to look me in the eye.
“Who's Victoria Carrington?” I ask.
“No-one.”
“You've got a lot of her mail.”
“She's just a friend.”
“So -”
“I should take those,” she adds, hurrying across the room and taking the letters from my hand, before rifling through the pile of papers on the table as if she's worried there might be more.
“So are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies, forcing a smile and clearly trying to act as if nothing's wrong. “Last night was pretty crazy, though, huh? We got pretty drunk before we came back here.”
“We did, but -”
“I don't think I even remember very much,” she adds.
“Really?”
“Do you?”
“Well...” I pause as I realize that this is her way of dealing with everything that happened. “Not a whole lot,” I add finally. “A few flashes here and there.”
“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she continues, stuffing the letters into her dressing gown pocket before double-checking that the cord around her waist is properly tied. “People do crazy stuff when they're drunk, stuff they'd never do when they're sober, not in a million years. I'd offer you a ride home, but I actually have to get going quite soon, so...” She finally glances at me, and I can see from the look in her eyes that she's desperate for me to play along. “You know how it is.”
“Sure,” I mutter. “I should get going anyway, I've done what I -”
She waits for me to finish. “Done what?”
“Nothing.” Turning, I pick my way through the piles of clothes on the floor until I reach the door.
“So let's not tell anyone about last night,” Jess says suddenly.
I glance back at her.
“Don't you think?” she continues. “I mean, sometimes it's better to just not tell people anything. Maybe we should just keep it between us and not really mention it again. Not that I remember much, but, I don't know... If anything did happen that was out of character, we definitely should just keep it as, like, a secret.”