“You coming down the pub with me Bren?”
We’d finished dinner and cleared away. It was Friday night, and the end of a very challenging week for us both. I felt we needed a bit of escapism, to take our minds off the doom-and-gloom all around us.
There was no response from Brendan.
“Come on… it’s Trivia Night,” I persisted.
“Don’t be daft!” came the reply. “We can’t go to the pub. We’re in lock-down. Nobody’s allowed out to the pub.”
“Not a real pub,” I responded with a laugh, “It’s a virtual pub.” I’d seen it advertised by someone on Twitter: 'Trivia Night at the Corona Arms. Come one, come all!'
Keen to try it, I had already signed up to ‘Zoom’ in preparation. “We just join in with Zoom,” I explained. “I’ve no idea how it’ll work… apart from being a BYOG event. And we do have a few beers in the fridge!”
That was an understatement, because we’d been to the Off Licence earlier in the week to stock up on beer and wine, as soon as they’d announced the impending lock-down. Call it ‘panic-buying’ if you like, but we treated it as shopping for essentials. Forget the toilet rolls – we had a bidet – but what if we ran out of grog? Big disaster.
“Sounds interesting,” Brendan replied. “But I really do have to finish off this submission. It’s due Monday morning. If I get it out of the way tonight, we can have the weekend free.” Then he added, with a meaningful leer: “I’ve got plans for our weekend.”
That sounded promising, I thought with a little thrill of anticipation.
“You go ahead and join in,” he went on. “Tell me what it’s like, and we can do it together next week, if it’s any good.”
He went over to the fridge to get a beer for himself. “I’ll be with you in spirit, Gini” he said, twisting the cap off. “What would you like – a wine?”
He handed me a glass of red before heading into the living area with his computer. I took mine, along with the bottle, into our bedroom, the only other separate room in our tiny London flat. Other than the bathroom that is, and I couldn’t have a pub Zooming in to the loo!
I put my computer at the end of our bed and sat cross-legged, propped up against the bedhead. By angling the screen properly, I could frame my head and shoulders with the picture on the wall above the bed and nobody watching would be able to tell I was in a bedroom.
I logged into Instagram on my phone, put in #coronaarms and typed in ‘trivia night’. A few seconds later I got the Zoom login details and password and … magic! My screen filled up with lots of little video squares, each framing smiling faces holding up glasses and cheering each other.
I did the same and took a sip. “Mmmm”. Just what I needed.
Each of the squares had a name at the bottom – I’d put in my own, ‘Virginia’, but most of the others seemed to be made-up names, and the one in the middle for the screen was described as ‘Morticia (Quiz Master)’. She was dressed for the occasion, a cross between the Addams Family and a caricature of a dominatrix!
I soon discovered that two or more people in a square constituted a ‘team’, but singles like me were to be put with another single and allowed to confer in a Zoom ‘Breakout Room’ before submitting our answer to each question.
I was paired with a hot-looking guy called Rob; at least he looked good in his little box on my screen. Not as hot as my Brendan, of course, but hot enough for me to be pleased with the pairing. He seemed nice enough to talk to, polite and a bit jokey. After a few pleasantries, a virtual chinking of glasses against the computer camera followed by a big swallow of our respective wines and some bumbling around to get the breakout room function working, we were ready for the first question.
Morticia read it out, with a menacing tone and a warning: “If you get this one wrong, you’ll be punished,” slapping a whip against her leathered thigh. Well, I wasn’t expecting this; and I wondered if any of the others were. It certainly seemed as though the Corona Arms Trivia Night was about to be much more exciting than any other pub quiz night I’d been to.
“Here we go. How many pubs (proper pubs; not new-fangled bars) are there in the Square Mile of the City of London? It’s multiple choice, to make it easy for you: (a) fewer than 50, (b) 50-74, (c) 75-100, or (d) more than 100. You have 60 seconds to submit your answer.”
“Slap, slap, slap…” We could hear Morticia slapping out the seconds against her thigh with her whip, as Rob and I conferred.
“I’ve no idea,” I offered unhelpfully, “but it must be lots… more than 50?”
“It could be more than 100, Gini” Rob responded, “but how about we go somewhere in between? Are you OK with (c)?
I felt a bit of a thrill hearing this bloke I’d never met using my name in a casual, familiar way, as if we knew each other well, and it felt like we were conspirators.
“Yes, yes…” I stammered. “I agree.”
We submitted our answer. So far, so good. Now on to the next one.
“What’s the name of the female lead character in Fifty Shades of Grey? This is one I, Morticia, can really relate to. Here’s a hint: she’s a woman flirting with dominance and submission. Don’t get this wrong either… or else!”
Morticia seemed to be relishing her role as mistress.
“I know that one!” I blurted to Rob in our breakout room. “It’s Anastasia Steele.”
“Oh, so you’ve read it then,” he challenged, sounding intrigued. “Did you find it as arousing as some women say?”
I could feel myself blushing. I had indeed found it arousing and Brendan and I had read out some bits of it together, leading us into some great sex. We’d even tried out a few of the scenes. I was starting to get horny thinking back on it.
“Yes, I did actually,” I replied with a nervous laugh. “But I think it would have been even better with role-reversal. Anastasia in the power position, so to speak! What did you think of it?”
“Oh, I haven’t read it. Just followed all the hype. Maybe I’ll read it now… now that you’ve recommended it.”
“I didn’t think I’d recommended it, actually,” I protested, “But you should read it. It might give you some ideas for spicing up your life!”
I surprised myself with how forward I was being, but somehow it felt easy to be daring with the distance created by the screen, perhaps enhanced the general feeling of impending doom caused by the pandemic.
That’s how the evening continued as we worked our way through the questions – and through the wine – with me getting more flirty, and Rob responding in kind, keeping pace with both my drinking and my innuendos. We seemed to egg each other on. There was lots of laughter.
In the midst of it all, I heard the bedroom door handle squeak. Looking up over the screen of the laptop, I saw Brendan’s head appearing around the side of the door. My heart gave a jump, as though I’d been caught doing something naughty, and I’m sure I blushed.
“How’re you going? OK?” he mouthed. I gave him the thumbs up. “Half an hour more, then I’ll join you,” he added, with actions. I nodded and smiled as he backed out of the bedroom; then turned back to the screen for the next question.
By the end, we’d performed quite well. We came third and got cheers and applause from the other boxes on my screen. By the way, there are 97 pubs in the square mile of the City of London!
Before we logged off, Rob opened the breakout room again, and asked, a little hesitantly: “Would you like to keep talking? If you do, I’ll invite you to my Zoom Room.”
The alcohol was clearly taking control, because I heard myself agreeing: “That’d be nice.”
‘Nice! Nice? What sort of response is that!’ I chastised myself for seeming such a twerp, but I was quick to log in as soon as Rob’s invitation pinged on my computer
“Hi again,” came the cheerful greeting. “We did pretty well, didn’t we? I thought we might get to know each other a little better, and perhaps we could play as a team again next week.”
“That’d be good,” I responded. “How do you suggest we get to know each other better?”
Rob smiled mischievously. “Well, you could tell me your life story and then I could tell you mine. Or else we could play cards – I reckon cards reveal a lot about a person! Have you got a pack of cards?”
“Who doesn’t?” I answered. “Yes, let’s do that.” I leapt up off the bed and found our pack of cards on the dresser. “What’ll we play?”
He was already shuffling his pack. “Do you know ‘Beggar my Neighbour’?” he asked. “I’ve worked out how to convert it into a distance game.”
Wow he’s come prepared, I thought, wondering if he had done this before with other women… and whether it had led to anything. “Of course I know it,” I responded, sounding indignant. “Surely everyone played that as a kid.”
“OK, here’s what you do in the COVID version,” he started. “First shuffle and put the cards face down in front of you. Then lift the top card of the pile and turn it over to start a new pile. There… where I can see it.”
I followed as he spoke. “It’s a 2,” I reported.
“I can see,” he agreed. “Now my turn… a 5. Now you go.”
“A Queen,” I announced. “Ha! That’s a penalty card – Royalty – so now you have to put down two cards, right? It’s one card for a Jack, two for a Queen, three for a King, and four for an Ace, isn’t it?”
“OK, here goes… a 3, and a 9. Damn!" he exclaimed. "You win that hand. Now I have to take a drink. And you put the cards in your face-up pile back under your dealing pile and I have to take mine away. The first one to run out of cards loses the game.”
He took a long swig, looked up at me and smiled. “Ready to go? Oh yeah, the person who loses a hand goes first with the next. So it’s my turn. Ready?”
I nodded. He turned his first card.
Then I turned mine.
Jack! “Bingo!” he shouted. “The best card. If your next card’s not Royalty, you lose the hand!”
He was getting really excited, bubbling with anticipation, eyes shining. He was competitive, and it was infectious. I laughed out loud at his antics. My heart was thumping as I leaned forward to turn over my next card…
"Loser!" Rob was bobbing for joy on the screen, acting as though he’d won the whole game. “Take a drink,” he demanded, “and then take away that pile of cards.”
“I think I’ve had enough,” I responded. He looked crestfallen, deflated, confused.
“Had enough?” he protested. “But we’ve just got started. I thought we were having fun. C’mon Gini, let’s just finish the game… I haven’t got to know you yet! OK, how about this… you don’t have to drink.”
I hadn’t actually meant that I’d had enough of the game, just that I’d had enough to drink. My bottle of red was almost empty, and it was only me drinking it. But I was having fun.
I don’t know what came over me… it might have been the effects of the wine but it could equally have been the anticipation of exhibitionism and voyeurism through the internet, the feeling of being anonymous but safe in my own house, or the urge to do something risky with a stranger while Brendan was working in the next room. Whatever it was, I blurted out: “No… we’re not stopping, we’re raising the stakes. No more wine. You said: ‘cards reveal a lot about a person’ Well, now we’re about to reveal a lot about each other… we’re playing for clothes. If you dare! First one to be naked loses.”
I paused, and then slowly unbuttoned the front of my denim vest-jacket and took it off. Just my t-shirt, skirt and knickers left… I hadn’t bothered to dress up for this night at the pub, not even a bra! A quick glance revealed that Rob was just wearing a shirt and jeans. We were even… assuming he had undies on!
I smiled at him. “Beggar my Neighbour has morphed into Strip Rob Naked! My start,” I announced, turning over my next card.
Rob was still motionless, his expression betraying the processing going on in his mind.
“C’mon, I dare you. It’s your go.” I looked up at him on the screen. He seemed a bit flushed, with an expression like a kid with a parcel on Christmas morning; as if he couldn’t believe his luck. It didn’t seem like he’d done this before! I challenged him again: “Are you game?”
He shook his head in disbelief, licked his lips and, without answering, leant forward to turn his card over.
“Ha!” he exclaimed. “You asked for it! It’s Strip Gini Naked we’re playing now.” He took a drink. “Let’s see how you respond to my Ace.”
I turned my cards:
One to go. My heart was really thumping now, as one more pleb card would have my t-shirt or my skirt off, and he’d still be fully clothed.
I pumped my fist in the air: “Saved by the knave! Get ready to get your gear off.” I hushed myself and looked up to the door of the bedroom, half expecting Brendan to be bursting in to see what the din was.
Rob turned his next card. It was a 4.
I sensed relief flooding through my body and squirmed with the seep of hot moisture that was starting to make itself felt between my legs. My face flushed.
Feigning disappointment, Rob wriggled out of his jeans, revealing his white Calvin Klein briefs with a red waistband. He was still covered, but the bulge gave away his excitement and anticipation… and heightened mine.
“My turn to lead,” he said, and turned his next card.
“Ha!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “How good is that – another Jack!”
Almost inevitably my next card was not Royalty.
I slowly pulled my t-shirt up over my head. knowing that he was getting an eyeful of my breasts while my face was still covered. I paused like that for a moment, knowing that it would heighten his excitement. That instant the thought crossed my mind that Brendan might be right now on his way into our bedroom, his work finished. I paused a little longer, listening for footsteps and feeling a flush of hot, sticky moisture as I half hoped for silence and half anticipated being caught.
I shivered at my brazen boldness and could feel my nipples tightening and standing erect. I wasn’t cold at all; just stimulated. Blinking as my face emerged and I looked up at the screen. It’s weird with a video call, you can’t tell exactly where the other person is looking, because when they’re looking at your face on the screen, they’re not looking into the camera, so they don’t seem to be making eye contact. Nevertheless, I was sure he had been making eye contact with my bare breasts. I could tell he was excited; ‘straining with excitement’ would be an apt description. Oh, I so hoped I was going to win the next hand.
“OK,” I went on carelessly, as if nothing had happened. “My turn now.”
My wish come true! He started to unbutton his shirt. “Wait,” I said. “Didn’t I tell you that when you lose a hand, your opponent gets to choose what you have to take off next?”
“No, you didn’t,” Rob responded. “That’s not fair, you can’t change the rules now.”
“I’m not changing them,” I insisted. “I’m just telling you a bit late. Take off your jocks.”
After a pause, he acceded and started pulling down his Calvins. As the waistband passed his bulge, his erection jumped out, hard and veined, with a shiny purple tip. I couldn’t see properly, but I was pretty sure his balls were shaved and smooth. He moved his hands in an attempt to provide some modest shielding, but to no avail; his excitement was well beyond covering. He looked a bit embarrassed and stammered out: “I’m s… sorry. Could… couldn’t help it.”
I giggled. “Very impressive,” I said. “I’m flattered! Don’t apologise; it could just as easily have been me. Your turn.”
We had a run of plebeian cards next, no Royals, as our respective piles built up, in keeping with our rising level of nervous expectation. His was obvious, mine less so, but I could feel it right in my core.
Eventually he turned a Queen.
I responded very slowly, closing my eyes to block everything else out to connect with the nervous pleasure building deep inside me. “I can’t watch,” I said. “You tell me.”
Eyes tight shut, I turned my next card.
“Three,” he announced.
And then the next…
His victorious “Ha!” broke into my thoughts. I opened my eyes to see him smiling at me, erection still taut and glistening. “A nine. And I get to choose! Off with your knickers…”
After a short pause, he added huskily: “That’s if you’re wearing any.”
‘That’s interesting,’ I thought. ‘He’s keeping me covered – I wonder why.’ I reached under my skirt and wriggled out of my knickers, swinging them around on my index finger before flicking them across the room, like a stripper.
“Now, this next hand will decide the winner,” Rob declared. “And it’s my turn to make up a rule. Whoever wins makes a wish… OK? And the naked loser has to grant it!”
I had long ago thrown caution to the winds, so I nodded – flushed with anticipation and an irrational certainty that I was about to win.
“OK,” I replied, “My go.”
“Bingo!” I exclaimed, using his own gleeful word against him. “Let’s see you get out of this.” He squirmed nervously. I saw his elbow bump into his straining hard-on as he turned over his next card, sighing with relief when he saw it.
Over to me.
I paused. This might be it. My crotch was throbbing deep inside, as if the past 10 minutes had been passionate foreplay and my climax was imminent. I realised I was holding my breath. I turned the next card.
“Bugger!” I blurted out. “You win. Fair dos to you. Well done.”
I looked up at the screen. He had a broad smile and his fist was clasped firmly around the base of his erection.
“I see what your wish is,” I observed wryly. “You want to come with me watching, don’t you? OK, see if this helps.”
I knelt up and forward towards the computer, working my skirt ever so slowly down over my bum and pubes, knowing that my recently sculpted mound would be filling his screen. “Do you like what you see?”
“Oh no,” he contradicted. “I mean yes. Yes, I do like what I see… but no that’s not my wish. My wish is to watch you playing with yourself. C’mon, you lost fair and square. Get down and dirty!”
I swallowed and closed my eyes. It was as if two Ginis were arguing with each other in my mind: “You wouldn’t dare!” – “Yes I would” – You’re a hussy, Gini!” – “What could possibly go wrong?” – “Well, Brendan could walk in at just this moment.” – “It would be just like watching a porno movie, what’s wrong with that?” – “The actors will be able to see you, that’s what’s wrong.” – “But it’s always been a fantasy of mine; to orgasm with an anonymous, turned-on audience.”
The puritan Gini eventually gave up: “Whatever…” she said lamely.
And the daring Gini gloated: “You’ve got what you wanted, girl… make the most of it!”
Had I been alone in my bed and as turned on as this, I rationalised, I knew exactly what I’d be doing next.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" daring Gini was asking impatiently.
After what seemed like an age but might have been a split second, I had decided: ‘In for a penny, in for a pound!’
“OK Rob me lad.” I teased. “You asked for it, so get a grip and fasten your seatbelt. You’re in for the ride!”
I reached into my bedside drawer to retrieve my newest (and most favourite) sex toy… a Penguin Satisfyer. More of a suction toy than a vibrator, it has never failed to send waves of pleasure through my whole body, when it latches on to me. And it’s dressed in a DJ with a purple dickie-bow. Properly dressed for a public appearance!
I spread my legs and positioned the computer between them, pulled the pillow to one side so that I could lie back flat, looking up at the ceiling. I slid a hand down between my legs to part my lips, exposing my sex to the camera and feeling my fingertips spreading my warm slippery juices.
The image in my mind of Rob’s eyes glued to my sex and his hand sliding up his engorged cock caused even more swelling and throbbing down there, so I was well-and-truly primed when my other hand brought the little sucking Penguin down between my legs. My whole body shuddered and strained when he latched on to the swollen shaft of my clitoris and I slid him further down.
I was so aroused that I could even now feel little contractions twitching deep inside me, but it was still a surprise when orgasm started flooding over me the instant his little mouth reached the swollen tip of my clitoris, sucking it in and enveloping it with almost unbearable pleasure.
I lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling of my orgasmic contractions subsiding and wondering at how quickly that had happened. God, I must have been so stimulated. A sound brought be back to earth; a loud grunt. I’d forgotten about Rob. Was that too quick for him, I wondered. Was that the sound of him coming?
I lifted my head up to look at the computer, to see what he was up to. The screen was blank… apart from a message in the middle: ‘Your 40 minutes of free Zoom has expired. You have been disconnected. Click here to upgrade to Zoom Premium.’
Shutting the screen of the laptop revealed Brendan, propped in the doorway of the bedroom, his pants down around his ankles, his cock in his fist, and drips of sticky cum dripping over his knuckles.
“That was amazing!” he exclaimed. “What were you watching? It must have been pretty stimulating, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so turned on. God – it was a turn-on for me.”
“Oh, the trivia quiz was much better than I expected,” I said with a laugh, dodging the question. “We’re going to do it again… together.”
“What, the quiz night?” he asked mischievously.
“No! Get into bed with me... now,” I ordered. “We’re going to do it again… together.”
Copyright © 2020 Crystal Knight. This is an original work. It may not be reproduced or distributed in any form without the written permission of the author.