by Kate Messick
He slows and stops. His body motions for me to roll over and I comply. He pulls my hips toward him and sink my head into a pillow, my ass up in the air.
“You ass is just the perfect heart shape,” Joe says almost reverently.
I feel him kiss the top of each cheek and then give each a little smack. Joe reaches between my legs and begin playing with my clit. I moan into the pillow as his digits work magic and then Joe is inside of me again. The smacking sound of bodies rhythmically colliding fills my little space.
I begin to whimper, faster and faster as he brings me to a climax. My entire body tenses around him as my orgasm takes me. I ride the wave of pleasure while Joe removes his fingers and grabs my hips, increasing our speed until his own release makes him swell and groan. He moves a few more times before lowering his body on top of mine. Little kisses cover my shoulders and neck before he rolls to the side to keep from crushing me, removing the condom.
I cuddle into his waiting arms and listen to his heartbeat.
“I’m staying the night,” he breaths against my ear.
“I want you to.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Reality, Lachio’s, Downtown Boulder
A local chain unique to the Front Range, Lachio’s hunts for old houses filled with small rooms and twists and turns. Every corner is filled with tables and chairs that are covered in lace, home-made jams, and mismatched china. The walls are full of posters and pictures from New Orleans, and the wait to get in is always out the door.
Dillon Dempsy
“You have a photographic memory?” I repeat what Sandy just told me. A little confused.
She’d run out of yesterday's D&D game almost crying. And today she seems fine. Sort of. She attempted some small-talk about the weather. And then, with no lead in, announced that she has a photographic memory.
“I have been wrestling with some emotions and personal life stuff,” she continues as if we talk about emotions all the time. She doesn’t look me in the eye, just at her lap, where I’m assume she’s shredding her napkin. “I was so angry, partly at myself. I have been doing some thinking. When my dad died, I just stuck my head in the ground. I didn’t want anything to do with anyone … I didn’t want to feel that loss again.”
She takes a moment to sip some coffee. I don’t interrupt. “Between you, Joe, and even Betty,” she eventually continues, “I have friends again. I have people that I look forward to seeing who aren’t just in a book. I hate it that I want this, I’m opening back up to being hurt again. But I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I haven’t for a while, but I wasn’t ready. I still don’t know if I’m.” I reach across the table and put my hand under Sandy’s chin, guiding her eyes up.
“I have watched you grow over the last few months,” I encourage. “I have watched you say nice things to Steven and share bits of your life with me. I won’t presume to tell you how you feel. But I think you hold the world in your hands, and anyone would be honored to be your friend.”
My fingers linger on her skin a few seconds longer than necessary. A tear slips out of one corner of her eye.
“That might be a little overboard,” she finally responds. “I don’t think anyone would be honored to be anything with me. But your point is loud and clear.”
Our food picks this moment to arrive and we both take our first bites. The background noises come in waves around us as the greasy Creole fills my senses.
“I was really worried you would judge me for my memory,” Sandy says. “Or just assume I’m lying – I usually get both.”
“I would never,” I respond quietly. “I already suspected, thank you for telling me. It just adds to your charm. Have you told Joe?” I can’t stop myself from asking.
“No, I’m pretty sure he would accuse me of lying or say that I’m always cheating.” Sandy blushes. “We haven’t done much talking anyway.”
“What does that mean?” I keep my voice neutral, but inside I’m panicking.
“We sorta hooked up,” she answers and continues speaking, but I don’t hear it. I feel my blood rush and my heart sinks.
“Dillon?” Sandy must have said my name a few times.
“Sorry.” I get control of my thoughts. “I just am, well, surprised is an understatement.” I’m angry. I’m disappointed. Not in Sandy, but in Joe for taking advantage of her. She’s obviously in the middle of something. She needs support. She needs love, not whatever Joe is offering. She needs me, but I don’t dare say any of that out loud.
“Are you upset with me?” she asks quietly. Even her body language is pulling back into itself.
I don’t have great control of my expressions. What I’m thinking must be showing. “Do you love him?” I have to know. I want to be there for her, but I want to be more than just a friend. But only if she wants that too. I need to know there is still a chance.
“I hadn’t even thought about that. Sex is, well, sex,” Sandy says, then pauses, waiting.
I see her eyes start looking for an exit plan. I really, really don’t want to hear about sex with Joe.
“I would never be upset with you,” I relent quickly. “Sex can be just sex, but It’s also special. To me at least. I’m worried about you. I don’t know everything, but I know you’re going through something. I just don’t know if Joe is good for that something.”
Sandy relaxes a little and takes another bite of food. She chews and swallows. “I forget how innocent you are sometimes.”
“I prefer romantic and ideal.” I bristle a little, but teasing me puts me and her at ease, so I let it go. I’m less innocent and more careful of people’s feelings. Everyone has their own kink. I of all people understand that. My sexual appetite is not quite as innocent as my day-to-day demeanor lets on.
“I want to be a better Sandy. And I have not really thought this Joe thing through,” she confesses. “I have …” She trails off and then tries again. “Joe is simple. He doesn’t always know when to shut up. But he has been very straightforward, and it feels good to be wanted back. He has the same strength and air about his as my ex but without the baggage. Maybe that isn’t healthy. But maybe Joe is what I need right now. Even if he’s not good for me.”
I take my own bite of food and roll it around in my mouth. I can’t taste it. What she needs right now? She’s planning on more hook-ups.
“Are you two dating?” I hope my voice comes out as neutral as I’m trying to keep it.
“To know that would require talking,” Sandy snorts.
Great, casual hook-ups. I guess I’m not surprised. Joe looks like he enjoys taking advantage of women. No, he doesn’t. I’m just bitter that she likes him. It feels so stereotypical, the big jock getting the girl. But Joe isn’t really the stereotypical jock.
“I know you don’t like Joe,” she says.
“I don’t dislike Joe. I actually think he’s a great DM and a good guy. We just don’t see eye to eye on everything.” Honestly, she seems to be the only thing we don’t see eye to eye on. If Sandy weren’t in the picture, I think Joe and I might have become really good friends.
We eat a little longer. Sandy is struggling to stay on one topic, bouncing from games to anecdotes about her memory that I feel she has been wanting to share for years. I find myself relaxing. She doesn’t love Joe. It actually sounds like she’s sharing more of herself with me than Joe, even if she slept with him. She doesn’t know what she wants. I’m in it for the long game. Not just to be with Sandy now, but long term. I’m in love. And love conquers all, right? Isn’t that what the movies teach you?
“I’m trying to change the way I interact with the world,” she suddenly announces. “And I think the first step is being more accepting of some things inside me that I don’t like.”
I let her words sink in. It’s such an odd thing to say. But accepting who you are is a big step toward being happy – or, at least, that’s what my two physiologist parents always said. It’s what I try to live by. “I’m here … whatever you ne
ed,” I promise.
“I have a weird request.”
“Go for it.”
“I want to write Joe an email that explains my fear a little better,” she explains. “And uses my ideal to justify the third Nozomi. I’m not backing down, even if I’m wrong.”
I grin at her proclamation and happily agree to help her. Nothing has changed between us; Sandy will do what she needs to and maybe now she will let me help her.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Reality, Buckley Air Force Base
Dungeon Master Expectation: A master storyteller who gets to weave epic adventures for their friends.
Dungeon Master Reality: An accidental therapist who has to guide a group of friends through weird parts of their personalities, whilst pretending to be a goblin.
@seanofthehunt
Joe Smartin
I had been expecting something from Sandy. I thought after she spent the night curled in my arms that I might be important enough to respond to, but apparently not.
My D&D game has spent the week up in the air, I can’t even work on it. Our time between the sheets had not included conflict resolution. I love her logic and knowledge, but I don’t understand how all that can just suddenly fly out the window. Yes, I stretched some rules for my encounter, but it’s still my game. I was angry at Steven for making it worse, but I could suddenly and clearly see where he gets his opinion on her from.
Two tickets come in at work, followed shortly by an email. Of course. 3:30. The perfect time for things to break. Fortunately, none of them are urgent and I pass them off. The email is from Sandy, speak of the devil.
Joe,
I’m sorry for storming out of your game. I can tell you put a lot of work into it, but I’m going through some stuff and your encounter got under my skin. Nozomi’s greatest fear, my greatest fear, is being trapped in a future. I live in the moment. But recently, and if I’m honest, for years now, living in the moment has not created very many good moments. But I, Sandy, am struggling to balance my life at the moment. That was a lot of moments in one paragraph, sorry.
When Nozomi split into two and I felt I had to choose a side, I fell apart. When you explained that I didn’t have to choose a side, I felt like you were undermining my complexity, Nozomi’s complexity. And when you asked me for justification, I wasn’t prepared both for Nozomi or myself because I reacted emotionally. Because I made everything too personal.
I will not back down. There is a third Nozomi. I will let go of all your homebrew rule-breaking, but I need to be more than black and white. I need to be more than my past. I deserve more than what I have.
My ideal is: Freedom – Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them.
My Justification is: My past, my warring natures, define my history, but we are all meant to break free of our history.
The third Nozomi is the physical manifestation of my ideal. A being of love, trust and freedom. It’s the third me that, if I can embrace her, will make me a better person. But it’s the most terrifying me. The one I’m scared to lose but even more scared to admit is inside because she’s the most easily hurt.
Let me know if I should come on Saturday.
Nozomi, your emotionally unstable dhampir rogue.
I read the email twice, the second time very slowly. There is a lot in here. I flag it as important and finish my work day. I read it again before I log off my work computer. A piece of me wants to drive to Sandy’s apartment and hug her and let her talk. But something feels off. It was a wealth feelings and thoughts. I expected rules and facts. I text Dillon after checking my phone out of my security locker.
Joe: Did you help Sandy write an email recently?
Dillon: I did. She asked for help.
She’d gone to Dillon first. Even though we had slept together, she’d gone to Dillon first. It stung, not gonna lie.
Joe: Did you write any of it?
Dillon: She wrote all of it, but we talked it through. Her first idea was pretty much telling you how to run your game.
Joe: That was the email I was expecting.
Dillon: I don’t need to know what’s going on between you. But Sandy is trying really hard to be more accepting of herself. Don’t mess her up more.
Joe: That is not the plan.
Joe: Stay out of Sandy’s head. She’s thinking way too hard.
Dillon: Funny, maybe you just don’t think enough.
Chapter Fifty
Campaign, Poogses’ Country Estate, Room One
It’s not just fear that can leave one motionless, breathless, and heart racing. It’s love. Love from others and love of one’s self.
Goliath (Zack’s character)
I feel my wings drop and another glob of blood runs from the open zombie cuts and bites that cover my body. The air is thick with bats. Their chatter and echolocation assault my sensitive hearing. I feel someone hit my back as vampires close in on us. A gut-wrenching scream rips out of Nozomi. I turn in time to see her body engulfed in unnatural purple and green flame. The flames burn hot and fast, and when they are gone, three Nozomis stand in her place.
“Really?” Steven interjects.
I’m thinking the same thing.
“Sandy just needed time to think of her justification,” Joe answers smoothly. “We talked about it after the game.” He is so ready for this that he pulls out a printed piece of paper and passes it around.
Steven eyes the paper, then Sandy and Joe. His gaze is calculating, but he doesn’t comment and just passes it on. When it gets to me, I can’t stop my approving nod. It’s just a print out of her justification for the third Nozomi, but it’s well thought out. I was mad last week, but maybe she’s just weird.
I don’t get a chance to do more than observe Nozomi’s sudden triplet existence before the vampires charge. I roar in response and wildly swing my club. Trixy’s magic lights up the sky of bats. I see half the room suddenly covered in vines, slowing down the vampire onslaught.
“You can stop all of this, Nozomi, and save your friends if you just embrace your vampire heritage,” a rich male voice booms all over the room.
I can’t stop moving to see what’s going on around me. I just swing over and over at anything near me. Trixy and Ruby have coated the floor with area effects, attempting to damage as many enemies as they can. Strider is suddenly near me and I feel my body energized with his magic.
“We need to help Nozomi. She needs to know we trust her.” Strider’s voice is calm as he shoots a crossbow bolt into the very slowly thinning sky of bats.
I have no idea how to do that. Trust isn’t tangible. I hear him say the same words to Trixy, who I’m assuming is the body still against my back. I swing and miss the vampire that has come up right in front of me. His fanged grin pisses me off as he darts in and catches both my arms with a short sword. We can’t keep this up.
Strider (Dillon’s character)
I see Ruby handing out health potions and take one and place it on my belt. My dancing around enemies has left me largely uninjured, though I’m dangerously low on both spells and crossbow bolts. We need Nozomi. We needed her five minutes ago.
I cast my final big spell, thunder wave, tossing bat and vampire alike to the floor, to get to her side. Her three bodies are watching one another closely, their fear evident, as mayhem and carnage swirl around her. They all seem to be listening to something I can’t hear.
“Nozomi,” I bellow. I don’t know if she can hear me.
“Move.” Trixy’s voice is suddenly behind me. She tosses me her dire flail and slides to a halt in the middle of the three Nozomis. “You’re going to have to pull me out of here in five seconds.” Her bright eyes meet mine, and then she wraps her hands around human and vampire Nozomis’ wrists, her pink succubus powers seeping out of them. Neither of them move and I see lust creep into their eyes. Before I can blink, Trixy has leaned forward and pressed her lips against the third Nozomi.
“What are you doing?” Sandy asks Steven.
“I’m in the middle of internal conflict.”
“You need to love yourself, woman,” Steven answers in his high-pitched, pretend succubus voice.
“Uh, you can’t say that if you are kissing her,” Joe points out.
Steven brings up the back of his hand and pretends to kiss it and murmurs, “Ym-urg nm-urg,” He stops kissing his own hand and smiles wryly. “You get the point.”
I know it has been more than five seconds, but Trixy could not have surprised me more. I finally get my head in the game and run forward, grabbing Trixy’s hips and pulling with all my might. She fights me, but my fear of her killing Nozomi gives me extra strength and I’m able to break the succubus’ connection.
I feel a sword slice into my back and grunt. My own weapon ready in my hand to face the vampire hoard. Goliath and Ruby have been pressed back. I see the broken glass of their healing pots on the ground.
“We love you no matter who you are. Fucking get over it and help us!” Trixy’s yell is powered with her feeding and she manages a final blast, felling the last bat, but barely scratching the remaining four vampires.
I feel heat against my back. Green and purple flicker along the cave wall. The incoming vampires stop to cover their eyes. I toss my healing pot to Goliath, who chugs it. I can’t turn to see which Nozomi has emerged, but two daggers fly into the chests of the closest vampire and it drops. Goliath yells, refocusing on the one on the left while maniacal laughter fills the room.
“Until next time, daughter,” the voice says.
The tallest of the three remaining vampires turns into a hundred bats that move with one mind and disappear into the darkness. With Nozomi at full power, the five of us take down the remaining two vampires. When the last one falls, the room immediately goes dark.