Unspoken Pleasure by Erotica

Like A Blue Shell:>Ep2

Taylor stood in the kitchen and stared into the living room. She was going to stab something. Someone. And

soon. "Hey Swifty, grabanother beer?" Steve called from the couch.

"Get one yourself," Taylor snapped.

"Tim, your girlfriend is being rude," Steve said.

"Play nice, honey," Tim said, barely looking up from staring at Sydney

"That's a great idea," Steve said, "Let's play for it."

"What do you mean?" Taylor asked, cautiously. Her Spidey-senses started to tingle.

"I mean we play a gand whoever loses gets the other person beers for the rest of the day," Steve said.

Taylor didn't even blink. "Nyour game," she said. Taylor didn't play games for a living, not yet, but that was

her dream. She streamed 20 hours a week online, mostly MOBAS like LOL. But honestly, she'd play almost

anything as long as there was a prize at the end. She'd grown up in a big family where competition was key.

Challenging Taylor to a gwas like asking LeBron for a little one-on-one.

"What about the Switch?" Steve asked, "I don't suppose you two have MaKart?"

They did have MaKart, of course. The most recent version of the venerable racing series was one of Taylor's

favorites. She had played every installment, even the portable ones.

"Kart sounds like fun," Tim said.

Fun. Taylor shook her head. This wasn't about having a good time. Steve had just issued her a challenge, and on

her hturf, too. He was trying to insult her, like always.

But this tstupid, annoying Steve had stepped in it. All Taylor wanted was a way to humiliate him for how he

treated her all the time. Now he'd offered himself up in the easiest way possible. It was too good to be true.

Taylor laughed in her throat, despite herself. Steve was a goner.

"I'll fucking rape you in Kart," Steve said, and Taylor couldn't help but shudder at the way he said that word.

"Fine," she said, gloating, "You've got yourself a game."

*

Steve sank back into the couch, like drifting down a river under the warm summer sun. In front of him, Taylor

was setting up the console. She was bent over at the waist, practically planting her perfect ass in his face.

God, Taylor. Steve'd been with a lot of girls -- he had a way with women that he couldn't put words to -- but

Taylor was different. She was everything he ever fantasized about: thin little body, sly smile, and deep green

eyes. Her tremendous, tiny titties and perfectly sculpted butt.

Steve had been with Sydney for about a month. She was seriously hot -- the blonde hair, the big boobs -- but she

was so vanilla in bed it was hard to bear. Laying there, silent, just letting it all happen.

Steve just knew that Taylor would be different. She would touch and tease. She'd play. Sydney was like a sports

car -- fancy and unable to really do all that much besides look good. Taylor? That girl was a full on fuck truck.

She'd get dirty as you wanted and cback for more. Steve couldn't help but covet her.

Taylor straightened and handed Steve his controller with a sneer. The sexy girlfriend seemed to dislike Steve so

much -- too much -- and all that dirty look did was confirm what he had always suspected: Taylor wanted him. All

she needed was an excuse to claim what she secretly craved.

And he was going to give it to her.

*

"Let's make this a little more interesting," Steve said, "How about whoever loses the race has to do a shot."

"Wait," Taylor said, "You want to play MaKart, the drinking game?"

"It does sound like fun," Tim said.

"Fine," Taylor said and flopped down on the lounge chair next to the couch, "Best of four races. Whoever loses

does a shot."

Tim took his usual character, Yoshi. Then Steve and Sydney chose Link and Princess Peach, respectively. Finally,

Taylor took her favorite racer: Donkey Kong.

"Going with the big monkey," Steve said, "That's a bit of surprise."

"Get used to staring at big monkey ass," Taylor replied, "Cause you'll be behind him the whole way."

Tim noticed that Steve didn't seem too unhappy about the idea of staring at Taylor's ass. Then he looked over at

Sydney and saw she was holding the controller like she'd never seen such a strange device. "Have you played

this before?" he asked her.

"Not in a really long time," Sydney said, her voice soft, like she was afraid of someone hearing.

"Well it's your standard racing game. Just go fast and, y'know, try to stay on the road. OH! Also there are

weapons. You pick them up as you go around the track. You can block the way with banana peels or knock other

racers off the road with turtle shells. There are other things, too, but... Well, you kind of have to see it for

yourself."

The screen panned over the track, showing the group's four racers -- plus eight others steered by the computer -

- all set up and ready to go. It counted down 3... 2... 1... and then they were off. Tim stayed focused on his own

kart as it pinged over boardwalks, blasted over a beach, and swerved around dangerous, kart-crashing crabs.

MaKart was very strange when viewed objectively, Tim thought to himself.

The karts raced around the track for three full laps, racers dodging dangerous obstacles, flinging objects at each

other. Cheering and cursing in equal measure.

Taylor burst out to an early lead and took first easily. If that frustrated Steve he didn't show it. He just smiled and

waved the controller, admitting defeat. Then he went to the kitchen and cback with three highball glasses

full of sbrown liquor that Tim didn't recognize. He took a drink.

"Not just a sip, you have to finish it," Steve said.

"I thought you said we were just doing shots," Tim said.

"You guys don't have any shot glasses. Besides, this stuff is weak as water."

Tim would have sworn they had shot glasses somewhere but he didn't argue. The brown liquid burned down his

throat in three deep swallows. He thought it was only beginning. He was already too far gone.