Ravaged For a Good Cause

Almost four o'clock am, he charges me, challeges me, I'm on the defense, but raring to play.  I match his move, he makes another. I plan an attack of my own.  Dodge, parry, thrust! I'm split down the middle! I panic. I strike back and sting him, but he keeps on pressing deeper and deeper inward.

I look at the clock, note the time.  No matter what I try he counters it, or forces me to have to protect sensitive areas, no way to push him back, no way to push him off, I ask for a draw...he acquiesces...thank God...chivalry isn't dead. 

I can't stop thinking about him. I log back on an hour later. He's still there. I tell him I want another go, he challenges me, this time I make the first move.  It's a lot more intense much sooner this time, both of us integrating into the other's territory equally, more or less, changing advantage back and forth as we go, no holding back, everything is still, everything is moving.

We strip each other nearly bare one piece at a time, progressing in multiple combinations toward total domination of the other, long durations in between new positions some of the time, quick intermittent bursts other times, and just when I thought I had him in the stinging sears of reason, cornered, he sacrificed a pinch, to gain position, and drove me into submission, half because he was just that good, and half because I didn't ask for a draw.  I was hooked. 

We played all night long, over and over again. He was sooooo good! But then, so was I, because even though he won almost all our games, there were several times I gained all the advantage over him I needed, and I rode him hard until he gave in, until he couldn't hold back any longer, no matter what little maneuver he tried, what crafty strategy, just wasn't enough, I got what I wanted, plenty, but basically he dominated me all night long and we both wound up the stronger for it.

It was in the midst of all that that I realized I had the hots for this guy, and I wanted to chat with him some, so I sent him a friend request and three days later, go figure, he accepts. We wind up chatting, I send the first message, and within three emails we're already talking dirty, getting each other turned on, fantasizing, you know how it goes, and the next thing you know a month has passed and we're both driving to hook up for a quickie, no speaking allowed, masks, kinky stuff, and we meet at the designated location and we go through with it and I can't speak for him but it was by far the best railing I've ever received, and believe you me, I've received a'plenty, don't get me started, and when I get back home, we start chatting again, and can't sleep, and decide to meet up again for another quick round, same rules, different positions, which we go through with, and it got kinky kinky, like several species and industrial strength tools and all food groups represented and vulcan death chant background noise and we loved it, right up until as soon as we finished, he asked me to take off my mask, and I told him I would if he would, on the count of three, which we agreed to, and followed through with.

Christmas just isn't the same anymore.  I used to sit right by my brother every year.  Now it's really hard to look at him at all.  I sorta' linger near the hall and wait for the chance to go hang out with whoever is in any room he isn't in. I love him, always will, but we need some time before we can go back to hugging as though we didn't share those experiences, neither of us aware who we were with.  These are the risks you take when you're not able to leave well enough alone.  I'm pregnant with his kid too, by the way, and he doesn't know it yet. I plan to tell him tomorrow, and then we're gonna' have to tell every one else as well.

I'm glad about the kid, my son or daughter, but I'm repulsed by the memory of how the son or daughter came about. I don't regret it though, obviously. If I weren't pregnant, I would.  As it stands, he's daddy, I'm mommy, we both love chess, and neither of us plans to flirt with anyone online ever again.

a cautionary tale, with a happy ending ;)

im guessing the baby has no problem with it.

likely based on many similar true stories.   :D

what the...I mean...where is the good cause?!

hi yall, haven't checked my blogs in awhile; thanks for stopping by and commenting. lol to the pic and limehouse the good cause is the child who was born. & lol playchesspoorly. i hear ya.