A Different Kind Of Dungeon Master - Sex Stories

A Different Kind Of Dungeon Master

... feel this with me.

But I could feel spasms in her legs. I could see her pulse in her tossed-back neck, the way it crescendoed and then calmed in the aftermath. I couldsmell the difference in the air, as the moisture already freely dripping down from her suddenly quickened.

So, I didn’t interrogate her when she stopped and sat still, messily brushing her hair out of her face, and panted, “I… I did it… I’ve never actually… with another person… before… I… Seth…” she leaned down and kissed me heavily on the mouth. “Oh my god. That was….”

I took the die out of her hand and tossed it onto the floor.

“What does it say?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh.” Rachel leaned over to retrieve it. “It’s a fourteen.”

“On his turn, Prince Bastidio says, ‘If you wanted to face the floor, you only had to say so,’ and he grabs you, rotates you around a hundred and eighty degrees, and shoves you forward so your face is up against the bed. You can roll to resist, but you’ll do it with disadvantage from being all doped up on afterglow.”

Rachel kept panting for breath, for the first time looking overwhelmed by simple arithmetic and stage directions.

“Or,” I reminded her, “of course you can still use your—”

“I’m not using the magic teleporting safeword,” Rachel stopped me.

She shifted her hips, seeming to regain her awareness of me inside her, still hard and unfinished.

“Sorry,” she said, “I’ll… of course I’ll roll. I have to roll, right?”

“No, you don’t have to fight him if you ...

... don’t want to.”

“Right. Okay. Well, I got mine, and I don’t think I’m actively fighting tosabotage the containment of Hell, so I think I just want to give him what he wants.”

“Get on your knees, then.”

Rachel complied, unsteady but unhesitating. Neither of us were quite agile enough to fully act out the move I’d described, shifting from cowgirl to doggie without pulling out in between, but we got to the same place eventually, and I got the pleasure of sliding myself back into her from the new angle.

She moaned again softly and laid her upper body down on the bed as I did so. Her ass was still propped up for me, her knees firmly under her, but her back arched downward from there, catlike and graceful, to where her head, with glasses askew, rested on one outstretched arm. She looked altogether blissfully content.

For the first time since we’d started, I let myself look at her just to marvel, rather than to anticipate or argue or instruct.

Fuck, she was beautiful. She was so much more beautiful than I’d ever let myself acknowledge while clinging to the safety of her friendship. I would have lost my grip if I had.

This view of her felt too perfect to exist anywhere, let alone in my bedroom, laid out so trustingly, generously, almostgratefully, just for me.

It was a bizarre thing, to be regarded with gratitudefor something I would have given anything to do.

There were times, even in the course of ordinary DM-ing, when I felt my head start to spin at the ...