The national finals had arrived, and 32 of the country's best under-25 players would be competing to represent the nation. Being an international chess star had always been Ryan's dream. As a kid he read Kasparov and dreamed of electric sheep within Big Blue's endless facets. Now he was here, in the capital city, staying in the nicest hotel in town at the tournament's expense, where the final stage of the competition was taking place.
Ryan was eager to begin. To his dismay, however, the opening brackets would not be starting until noon. He forced himself to relax, and headed to the lobby after unpacking in his room. He ordered a drink, and began to browse his opponents. The hotel was mostly booked out for the competition, those rooms not taken by players or their coaches were taken by the organizers or media staff. As such he reasonably assumed anyone his age was a competitor.
Not that he had much difficulty, as he recognized half of them from previous stages of the competition. Ryan took a seat by two guys he'd gotten to know in the semi-final stage, Mark and Eric, and they were soon chatting away.
The discussion, as it so often did, soon turned to the female chess players in attendance – of whom a few could be seen.
“That's nothing,” Eric said at last, however. “I heard someone placed in the finals from up north on a technicality. The guy she beat claims she cheated, but... well, they couldn't prove anything.”
“So? Wouldn't be the first time.”
“Yeah, well,” Eric continued, “I heard she's not like any girl you've ever seen.”
Now the two were intrigued. Cheating was part and parcel, and while the ladies of chess were always fair, this had peaked their interest.
“They said she's tall, and... well... well-built, if you catch my drift.”
Mark and Ryan looked at each other.
“How tall is tall?”
Their question was answered for them when a hush came over the room.
Into the lobby walked a girl so tall she towered over even the men standing around, and even they turned to gawk at her as she passed. Her pale face was framed by jet black raven hair, neat and primly cut.
Attractive, sure, but so what. So she was tall? Why was everyone staring? Ryan wondered, until she passed closer by and he got to see her properly.
Her eyes were shockingly green, almost shining in the light. However, for as long as they held his gaze, they couldn't distract him forever, as she had the most stunning body Ryan had ever seen. Her maroon top sported a plunging heart-shaped-neckline, which drooped further than Ryan could have thought possible. That heart was stretched to its limits by her massive breasts, which seemed to have been poured into her otherwise form-fitting top along with the rest of her, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. She sported an utterly scandalous tartan skirt, which scarcely reached her thighs, which were themselves mind-bogglingly thick. Her shiny black tights which seemed to mirror the light seemed practically painted onto her long, voluptuous legs.
Now Ryan had seen her, he could well understand why she had drawn so much attention, as he couldn't take his eyes off of her. As she walked through the lobby, murmurs became silence, and she seemed to grin at the effect she had had. Evidently, she enjoyed the attention. Her eyes didn't wander the entire time, though, seemingly fixed directly ahead... except for a single moment as she passed by Ryan, her towering form and curvy body tracing a shadow entirely across his table. He could have sworn, just for a moment, that as she had passed... she had glanced down at him.
In that moment, he felt his heart skip two beats, before he was even sure it had really happened, and she was gone by the time he had blinked himself back to awareness.
He turned to look at the other two guys, to confirm what he had just seen was real – the look in their eyes confirming it.
It took a very short time for the background noise to build back up to where it had been, indeed it was now a little louder than before, as if everyone was trying to casually pretend they hadn't collectively ogled the tits on the girl who just walked through.
Of course, it would have been a lie to suggest that the largely college-aged participants were otherwise entirely innocent. Among sports competitions, even in the chess world, it was pretty well known that tournaments were practically orgiastic drunken riots by night. Heck, the Olympics has to account for the fact that its sport villages will essentially become party frat houses. The desire to finally cut loose among your peers, especially given the excitement of the occasion, often overrides the natural inclination to avoid a hangover during your matches. More than once Ryan had competed in fairly serious competitions with a throbbing reminder of the two-drinks-too-many he'd consumed the night before.
At last, the organisers directed everyone's attention to a large TV display hanging from one of the balconies in the lobby, where the bracket screen was laid out. They then, by contrast, brought out an ancient looking lottery ball machine which was turned by some local smiling dignitary as she pulled out, one by one, numbered balls which would correspond to each player's chosen number. Whoever was chosen first got white. It was simple, but such layman methods were the most trusted against tampering.
“Mark Petersen”, she said, and Ryan shook his shoulder encouragingly, “and... Ilya Manis.”
Mark smiled, and got up to walk over to his opponent, a blonde girl who smiled and shook his hand.
“Eric Rile... and... Harris Edwards.”
Eric sidled off, and Ryan looked up at the board. One by one, names were read off, and he realised... he hadn't seen that massive girl since. Was she not going to be here for the match ups?
26 names had been read off. The players had paired up, getting to know each other. Ryan, however, was now growing nervous. Not only had that girl not showed up, her name hadn't been read off either, as every player had so far been able to find their partner. Neither had his.
Another pair were made, both of whom seemed relieved to find each other, and only two pairs remained. Ryan looked around nervously, and saw two other players equally meerkat-like. Only then did he see it, above, on the balcony... she was standing, just out of eyeline for most, behind a pillar... smiling.
With her eyes on him.
“Ryan Brodie,” Ryan snapped back to reality, watching the balls rumble as another was pulled out, “plays... Tim Reed.”
Ryan collapsed back in his chair, relieved... and looked back up to where she had been.
She was gone.
The last person unpaired sat, red-faced, even as the names were read, already knowing the outcome. He was a small guy Ryan didn't know, but he wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for him or not. In his heart he was, but another part, located a little further below his heart, was rather envious of sitting at a table across from that girl...
“Jay Baum, will play... Celine Rose.”
***
The players were given an hour before the opening matches, which were to take place in the dining hall. In that time Ryan was chatting with his opponent, Tim. Fairly quickly, the conversation turned to precisely where you would think it would. Indeed, they overheard other pairs having pretty much the same discussion.
“She's... incredible.”
“I've never seen a girl like that.”
“Are we sure she's under 25?”
When the time came, they were escorted to the dining hall where 32 tables had been set up... yet only 31 players had arrived. The players sat, waiting, eyes flitting to the empty seat just a short distance from Ryan.
Clack, clack, clack...
From behind them she stalked in, and even over the crowd Ryan could see her jet-black hair almost static, with piercing green eyes searching for her seat. She smiled and shook one of the organisers hands, and slowly stalked towards the only remaining empty seat.
Her opponent looked like an animal caught in a trap. While there was plenty of room in the dining hall, 32 tables, however small, still took up a lot of space. For someone of her size, it was going to make for rather... intimate quarters.
Tablecloths ran to the floor under every table, yet even so, as she sat the table shifted slightly towards her opponent, no doubt the lip just barely resting atop her thick thighs.
After a few moments, she laced her fingers in front of her and gave her opponent a gentle stare. If this was an intimidation tactic... it was working, Ryan admitted to himself. He wasn't even playing her... yet.
“Right, the time is 1:59, the first game will last a maximum of one hour. Each player has 30 minutes on the clock. Referees are ready to be called, just raise your hand. Aaaaaand... begin.”
Ryan smiled to his opponent, and opened. The counter was predictable. They tapped the clock back and forth. The first eight moves were quite quick, as they often were.
Before the game had really begun, however, Ryan spared a look one table over at Jay Baum, the short guy who looked practically like a child sitting in a high chair when compared to the giantess sitting across from him. Her eyes hadn't left his face since the match had started. Indeed she had scarcely even looked at the board.
Ryan soon saw why. They were only two moves in. Jay had gone with E4, and Celine had countered... with her knight. An oddly aggressive first move. Ryan was staring at the board... or rather Celine's pieces. Then, Ryan noticed, he wasn't looking at the board at all. His head was tilted down, but his eyes were fixated on... Celine's finger.
Slowly, delicately, she was tracing the outline of her plunging neckline, as if a casual action. Her fingertip was delicately tucked beneath the soft material, and Jay's eyes were fixed on the way her skin dimpled ever so slightly as her finger moved... across that effortlessly soft skin...
Ryan realised he was making the same mistake, and snapped his eyes back to the board.
“Sorry, did you move?”
“Yeah...” his opponent said, softly, and pointed. The guy looked to his side slightly, back at Ryan, and pursed his lip in understanding. The pair shared a moment of sympathy for the boy not too far from them.
The pair played evenly until their first trade on turn 12, Ryan not expecting the capture so soon, and was forced to revise his pawn structure as a result. Occasionally, as they noticed others nearby were doing, they would both pause the game for a moment to observe the far more entertaining – and understandably distracting – game taking place nearby.
Jay had, at length, completed his opening. He had chosen the most cookie cutter basic defence possible, no doubt unnerved by his opponent and falling back on tried and tested methods. Celine, by contrast, was making moves that seemed to make no sense. Knight to C5? It was one turn from a poor trade there. Ryan gave his opponent a quizzical look, which they returned. At this point her style of play was more distracting than her demeanour, or her body, if that were possible.
If it was distracting them, it had totally thrown poor Jay. He wasn't despondent, but rather simply looked confused. He had likely begun to suspect what Ryan and doubtless anyone else who could see their board had. Maybe Celine wasn't good at chess... she was just good at distracting her opponents. The moves seemed odd, but maybe they were just a way for her to buy time.
A girl at the table behind Tim, Ryan's opponent, had clearly come to the same conclusion. Ryan could hear her muttering something under her breath, and he didn't have to be a lip-reader to guess what she was saying. She no doubt thought Celine was destroying the reputation of female chess players, using her body as a way to advance rather than her mind.
Tim and Ryan had paused for a moment, both considering their next moves. Tim had clear advantage in material, but his positioning was poor. He took Ryan's rook, clearly seeking to cement his advantage, and the trap was sprung. Ryan moved, Tim paused, then continued his advance, then Ryan shifted his pawn and the trap became all too apparent.
Tim smiled. “Not over yet, but well done.”
The pair relaxed, the game hadn't yet been decided but the situation warranted a moment's rest.
Rest, however, seemed to be the furthest thing from Jay's mind, as the pair watched him nervously pick up a knight, before looking into Celine's eyes. They seemed to glow, almost, with a brilliant intensity that could pierce the soul.
He was moving with confidence now, however slowly, evidently following a houses-safe strategy he seemed to have decided upon at last. His moves came swiftly after Celine's. However, albeit enigmatic, her moves no longer seemed to Ryan purely serve to stall for time, as he had assumed. The strategy, if it was there, he couldn't yet discern, yet he was no longer convinced it was just a ploy – not entirely at least. However, it had already been 30 minutes, and their game had barely progressed past the opening.
Celine had shifted tactics. Now, rather than toying with the lip of her shirt, she was idly running a finger across her lips – in the process emphasizing both their plush thickness and pillowy softness. Surely she had to use some kind of cosmetics... a girl's lips couldn't look so full naturally, right? As Ryan turned to his left, he saw a girl – whos game had finished – staring openly at the display with slightly parted lips over her opponent's shoulder. She noticed Ryan watching, and suddenly found a topic of conversation for her partner.
Ryan pressed home for the next four moves, as both had anticipated, and spotted an opportunity with a bishop he hadn't considered before. The move was fairly safe, but would take a little set up, so he kept it in his back pocket for now.
Slam.
The room went quiet as Celine removed and replaced one of Jay's pieces with her own with abnormal force. Just enough to make the table shudder slightly against her thighs.
Queen to D5. Ryan processed the move, and began to look around Celine and Jay's board. There was something going on here, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
Ryan and Tim settled twice, and Ryan took a long pause to plan out the final moves. All the while, he could hear the boy Jay's breathing change... he was now not simply shy, he was nervous. Ryan moved, Tim nodded, and the pair tried to ignore the sound as they went through the motions of the end of the game to see if there was any opportunity for recovery – however it was a done deal. Ryan checked, Tim moved, Ryan mated.
The pair shook hands... but quickly returned to watching the far more interesting spectacle out of the corners of their eyes.
Celine's pieces had seemed haphazardly placed, and yet, after that Queen had moved... now Ryan saw opportunities. Openings he would never have even dreamt of were but a handful of turns away... but... she must have been planning these moves far in advance.
Far... far before. How many turns were they on? Ryan spied their clock. 13 moves... She had to have planned this from... move five at the latest.
Like a predator having cornered its prey, Celine's eyes were focused now, as if taking in every aspect of what lay before her. Jay was, perhaps without realising it, not only telegraphing his thoughts, but now entirely subservient to her in the match. He was deciding his moves based not on his own thoughts but her reactions. When he went to move a pawn, he balked at the way her eyes grew wider, but when he reached for his knight, she smiled.
Ryan heard the boy make something between a cough and a sob as he settled back in his chair, beginning to see defeat blossom where his strategy had so recently stood. This merely seemed to feed into Celine's enjoyment as she leaned closer to her opponent, chin in her hand, head cocked ever so slightly to the side.
No, Ryan thought, the worst thing you can do is waste time.
As if Jay had heard him, he reached for the knight again, placing Celine's pivotal bishop in danger... yet she didn't seem to care. She snatched the bishop and placed it into H5. Check.
Jay just sat there.
Ryan watched, helpless to intervene, as Jay dithered away a full minute looking at pieces he should have known were useless right now, while Celine smugly rested her chin in the cradle of her laced fingers.
The clock was running down, and it was obvious if Jay wanted to save himself he would need to make some hard choices, but he didn't seem capable of anything at that moment save containing his panic. The game wasn't unwinnable. In fact Ryan could see a clear recovery if Jay were willing to sacrifice his rook. It would be tough, but again, not unwinnable. Jay's Queen still held a commanding position that kept a rook and knight pinned.
However, the game had drawn the attention of all the tables around them by now, and this didn't seem to be helping matters. Celine, however, seemed practically to bask in the attention, flirting her hair and twirling her fingers idly. Jay was, no doubt, struggling with having his situation so closely scrutinised by his peers, and yet Ryan doubted any who had watched the match well enough to track it could blame him. Indeed, Ryan wondered darkly, if he might have fallen into the same trap.
Jay's trembling hands clenched to fists and, seemingly having found the determination he had lost, he made to pick up his rook.
Then stopped.
Then stared up at Celine, whose eyes hadn't left the poor boy since the match started.
“Ah-” Jay began, and his hand shot up a few inches from the table before... it froze.
A referee took a few steps from their position watching the room, but stopped when the hand did.
It was only then, as the ambient noise of the room grew quiet enough, that Ryan heard it. Celine's lips were moving, ever so slightly, and she was whispering... something.
Jay seemed to be paying very close attention to whatever it was. Most tables had finished their games, but because they couldn't see what was happening as clearly, they had quickly resumed chatting, and Ryan couldn't make out the words.
Jay' gaze seemed to be drifting down, as Celine's finger had resumed it's playful dance across her cleavage. Indeed, he seemed to be shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Understandable, Ryan admitted, anybody would have an erection at that point. However, when Jay went to reach down between his legs, he gasped out loud and his arm froze once more.
Celine, however, just smiled.
Tim had left to sign off on their result, and as many games were ending some pairs were leaving, although a fair few stuck around for a few minutes to observe Celine and Jay's match before they went off to decompress, most soon parted.
As the games remaining dwindled, there Celine and Jay sat, barely having progressed. When Jay went to make a move, he seemed almost to recoil, as if the board had a serpent upon it that had snapped at his finger. In sheer exasperation, the boy rolled his head back and drove his palms into his eyes, and Celine seemed to near-imperceptibly lean ever closer.
Ryan seemed to be the only one paying close attention anymore, however, and was beginning to grow nervous on Jay's behalf. The clock was running down – Jay's 30 minutes having been ground down to just a scant few remaining. Yet if he was to have any hope of even drawing out a stalemate he needed to make moves and fast.
Each time he made any sign of recovering some semblance of his senses, however, at some unseen command he would sink his face into his hands. All the while, Celine's lips moved, and she leaned ever closer, her heaving breasts now threatening to tip the pieces.
Watching, in horror, Ryan saw the seconds tick away. In his mind, he was planning out the recovery... and yet inevitably found his eyes drawn, as Jay's were, to her lips, her finger, her breasts...
With but a minute remaining, the room was still, and Jay was drawing attention once more as he had begun to whimper. Ryan saw not an ounce of mercy in her eyes as she traced a finger around his king, as second by second, any hope remaining was lost, like grains of sand falling from the hour-glass.
Celine leaned eagerly forward, yet seemed utterly relaxed. Jay seemed practically exhausted, leaning over the table, breathing heavily. For a moment, Ryan could have sworn he heard the guy moan. His hands gripped the sides of the table, knuckles tightening until they turned white, his breath growing quicker until it was hoarse. Then he shivered, shuddered... and collapsed back in his chair.
“You lose.”
Ryan took a few moments to register that Celine had said it, and by then the clock had run out. Their game was over. Celine had won by default.
Ryan blinked, staring in shock. Had... he just seen what he thought that was? He looked around the room and yet no one else seemed to have noticed Jay's 'reaction'.
Turning back... he froze. There was no mistaking it now. Her eyes were fixed on him. Ryan could practically feel her probing inside his mind as he fell into those emerald pools. The message they sent was clear.
Suddenly, Ryan felt any confidence from his first match victory evaporate under her purgatory gaze. Her smile hadn't wavered, and yet he could have sworn that as she stared into his soul... it grew just a little wider.
Then just as swiftly, her gaze fell to the floor as she drew out her chair, and began to put her shoes back on. When had she taken them off? Just to relax, or... She stood, not even deigning to shake Jay's hand, and went to claim victory.
Ryan waited until the room was empty, watching the final matches play out politely, to take a look at the table.
The tablecloth, the carpet below, the chair... hell even the underside of the table, all sported a thoroughly organic and sticky residue.
For a long while, Ryan stood there in shock. He hadn't seen Jay's hands leave the table. So how had he...
Oh.
Oh no.
***
Jay was nervous. He wasn't overly-confident at the best of times, but for this match in particular he was worried. That girl... he swallowed, Celine was the most stunning girl he had ever seen.
She was also late. Everyone else was seated, and as such the room was staring at Jay sat aside an empty chair. He had played in front of crowds before but it was hardly his preference, yet now he was the centre of attention in a more nerve-wracking way. Surely she would be disqualified if she didn't turn up, right?
That girl... Celine. She was huge, in every way. Especially the most distracting way. When he closed his eyes, all he could see were her stockinged thighs, long legs, massive-
Clack, clack, clack...
Jay turned just as everybody else did to watch her enter, shake hands, and then as his heart entered his throat, she sat across from him. The table shifted noticeably in his direction, and felt lifted off the ground ever so slightly. Instantly, he felt her legs pressing against his. He had worried the table might be small, but hadn't realised just how... close it would make them both.
Steeling himself, he tried not to stare too openly at Celine's chest, and went over his plan. Safe chess. Safe chess. He repeated it a few times under his breath. Jay hadn't noticed his lips were moving until he saw Celine's curl into a smile.
He pursed his lips, and met her eyes, forcing himself not to stare at her colossal-
“Aaaaaand... begin.”
The opening was sound. He was comfortable with it, however boring. Predictable in some ways, but...
Why was she doing that? He looked between the space it had come from, and where it was. The move was... strange. That didn't make sense. He pondered her move for a few moments before remembering that he was doing so on his own time now, and quickly moved his pawn.
He felt her legs rubbing against his slightly, and he furrowed his brow at her. Was she doing that on purpose?
Suddenly he felt a soft thud as one of her shoes hit the floor, then the other. Oh, well, if that's all she was-
Instantly, he felt her toes begin to press against his calves. Looking up at her in alarm, she gave him a broad smile and held up a hand.
“Sorry,” she mouthed, and the foot retreated.
Flustered, he looked down to – once again – realize he had been wasting his own time.
Damn it.
Biting his lip he pulled his wandering eyes down, which had lingered a few moments too long on her plunging neckline. God... she was plunging her finger in and out of her tits. That had to be on purpose, right? But it looked so casual... Shamefully, he couldn't ignore how stiff his cock was growing as he watched the playful dance of her digit between those heavenly mounds.
Right. Opportunity on bishop. Focus. The strategy was fairly aggressive, given his safe opening, but it just seemed too obvious to pass up. No doubt she probably saw it too, but from what he saw there was little she could do to block his placement or progression, at least for a few turns.
Slam.
The table reverberated beneath them, through her thighs, into her legs, and buzzed a little against his.
Queen to D5.
Jay took a few moments to recover from the shock before he even began to process the move.
What? What was she... D5?
It didn't make sense. Was she just stalling? Was her plan to run out the clock? Damn! That's why she keeps...
He looked to his right. Both guys playing had paused their match and were watching his. Shit... did they know something he didn't?
Turning back, Celine was leaning in closer. Smiling, as always, chin in her hand, head cocked slight to the side.
Jay played on. The strategy was sound. He just had to stay vigilant.
They're more or less done with their game. We're only 13 moves in... wait. If she... well I need to move my... wait so if...
Jay froze. His eyes flitted across the board. No... it can't be.
Celine just smiled.
Jay began to realise, as one threat after another became clear to him, just how much danger he was in. There were three, no, four avenues of attack he hadn't even considered. His pawn structure wouldn't even give them pause. Two turns away... and she had four choices. Wait... five.
Shit. Shit, shit!
He choked back a son, and swallowed deeply. Despite knowing it was a mistake, knowing exactly what he would see, looked up into Celine's eyes. Her smile broadened as she read his face, her chin resting in her fingers.
Shakily, he reached down, knowing he had to make some kind of move... Rook to F? He'd lose it. Maybe that was the only choice though.
But then the strategy... safe chess.
In his peripheral vision he tried to ignore the way Celine twirled her hair, but it was so distracting! Especially now. He had to focus and she wouldn't stop... and her legs, he could swear she was rubbing them against him on purpose! The way those silky stockings felt against his legs was making his cock practically throb.
Shivering all over, Jay could feel sweat prickling on his neck, even though the room was perfectly cool. The time was ticking away, though.
God, if she'd just stop moving her fucking legs!
Reaching for his pawn, his gall rose at the way she stared. Was she judging him now? He went for the rook... but then her smile widened.
Fuck! He couldn't read her. No... she's reading me. I'm just reacting to her. Fuck!
He clenched his fists, and bit his lip so hard he thought he'd draw blood. No, he wasn't going to let her get to him. He reached down for his rook, but Celine lifted her legs blatantly now, and he glared at he. He was sick of her distractions, and at long last, raised a hand to call a referee.
Then, he felt Celine's toes encircle his cock through his shorts.
It took a few moments to realise quite what was happening, but it was more than enough to silence him.
He tried, God knows he tried to keep his hand in the air, but as her toes began to delicately massage his cock – which, already hard, now stood out like a pillar of stone beneath the table – easy pickings for her ravenous peds.
Every second he kept his hand aloft it felt as if it weighed more, and yet as a referee came over, he felt it drooping. No, please! Come over!
It was useless, however. Celine was focused now. Above the table she seemed so relaxed, and yet below the table he felt her large, powerful legs moving and flexing to grind her feet against his cock.
Shuddering, he struggled to process the sensation. God... it felt... incredible.
Desperately trying to focus, he forced his wincing eyes open, to see her finger had resumed moving in and out of her cleavage. Now, though, her smile was gone. She was focused entirely on him.
Her lips... were moving. Her heavenly toes had left him blind to the world... what was she saying?
“Give in.”
What?
“Give in.”
Oh. No.
“Give in.”
No!
“Give in.”
He tried to reach down to stop her feet, which had begun a rhythmic milking motion in time with her words. Yet when he did so, she slid her feet down to his base and squeezed tightly in a way that stole his breath.
Gritting his teeth, Jay leaned back in his chair and stared into his palms.
What was he supposed to do!? How could she get away with this?
But then, who would believe him? She was playing his body like a fiddle, her masterful footjob was beyond anything his own hands could ever have accomplished. If he managed to call over a referee, though, what would his proof be?
She could just slip her feet down and brush off his comments as that of a horny hormonal boy, frustrated at losing to a girl. He saw it now. Jay could see how, just like on the board, she had planned this all out from the start. She had been reading his reactions and planning it all. She was always so many moves ahead – it was hopeless.
Other matches were ending. Jay didn't care. His clock was running down. Jay didn't care. He hadn't made a move in... how long had it been? He was finding it hard to focus, Jay's eyes glazing over from the pleasure. How long? Oh God he only had a few minutes left on the clock!
Jay forced himself forwards, leaning over and scooting back in his chair as far as he could, but she just stretcher her long legs further. He couldn't escape! Those silky soft soles were relentless!
Those tits, oh God those tits! She was leaning forwards, giving him a heavenly view of them, and Jay felt himself falling deeper into the cavernous cleavage on display...
Under the table, he flexed, pressing his cock into the smooth valley she now offered him between her satiny feet. Oh God, he wanted- no he NEEDED to cum! Idly, she sucked on a finger, pushing it between her lips in time with each minute movement of his cock.
Her other finger... was hovering over his king. As her fingertip circled the head of his King piece, below the table her toes were circling his cockhead. Slowly her finger moved in tighter circles, pushing the piece this way and that as it spiraled, just as her feet moved in for the kill.
With a strangled moan, Jay felt his cock throbbing in his shorts. He throbbed. He gasped. He shivered. He came. Moaning breathlessly, he felt his orgasm ripple through him as her soles milked every ounce of his orgasm out of him. Relaxing against the table, she sighed in triumph, and knocked his king aside.
“You lose.”