He was only young, but he had a long red beard and he looked like an old man. I liked him. Many wouldn't, but I did. He had an awkward sense of humour. Sometimes it didn't seem like he was telling a joke, but hours later I would repeat something he said and find the humour in it. He talked a lot about computers. Computers were something new to the world. Some of us had one, a huge boxy thing with barely any memory. I printed my asigments out on a dot matrix printer and watched the paper catch and feed out all askew. I still liked my typewriter with the two line memory and the automatic corrective action that seemed to make the words vanish off the page with just the press of a key.
He preferred my computer although I didn't. He was part of a group that I hung around with, gamers, playing D & D and talking about old Star Trek episodes. He liked Mr Spock and I liked Leonard McCoy and that explained the difference between us. Still. We were fond of each other. He made me cups of tea and he didn't even ask the other gamers if they wanted one. I sometimes put a weedy flower in the keyhole of his dorm room because I knew that no one ever brought him flowers.
I dreamed that we were in the bath together playing D & D. There were other people in the room, the whole gothy, geeky, over-nourished, under-sunned bunch of them. All of them with their little painted figures of magic users and dwarfs and rangers. Someone was rolling the multi-sided die and it was skittering loudly on the tiled floor. No one seemed to mind that he and I were naked in the bath. No one seemed to mind when I ducked down under the water to suckle on his penis. It's not like I had ever wanted to even touch him before this. I liked him. He was fond of me. There was a kind of familial easiness between us that we appreciated, but I had never even thought about his body under his pointy boots and his black trenchcoat.
In the dream there were these little dives under the surface of the water. There was this held-breath suckling as if I were a child and his penis rose like a nipple in front of me. I tasted his pearly pre-come and it was sweet as milk. I would rise up for air and someone would tell me to roll the dice and I would ask them to roll it for me. A twenty sided die which is almost a sphere juddering across the hard surface.
"You've been stabbed in the arm by an orc," the dream nerd told me and I shrugged, took a deep breath, and went down to nuzzle at the orange fur dusting his balls like peach fuzz.
It was a really strange dream. Unexpected. I sat opposite him in the common room and we had our little metal figurines in front of us and there was the dungeon master's screen between us and I still found myself blushing as if I had been caught doing something I shouldn't.
At some point he stood up and went out to the kitchen and came back with two cups of tea. One for him. One for me. No one seemed to notice. This was what he always did. I was the only girl that played and I suppose he did this out of chivalry. He put the cup of tea down in front of me and smiled and I wondered if his pubic hair really was the same colour as his beard.
No comments:
Post a Comment