It’s My Turn Again

The chess game was going far longer than normal, which surprised Alan greatly. Melissa had never been much of a player, always falling for the most basic of traps, and yet here she was, pulling out tricks that would confuse even the most experienced champions with incredible ease. How she was doing this well so suddenly was a mystery waiting to be solved.

“Have you been taking lessons from a Master or something?” he asked, stopping the clock momentarily to gaze into her cerulean eyes.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk while playing,” she replied, crossing her tanned legs under the wood table. She was rocking a leather mini-skirt that day that was a match for her auburn hair. A provocative low-cut, black top completed the attire, but he was smart enough not to get distracted by her juicy boobs.

“And you weren’t supposed to be this good. How are you doing this?”

“I got better,” she smirked dismissively.

“Too quickly for my taste and anyone else that knows the intricacies of the game. Even if you’re taking lessons, it’s unlikely you learned so much since the last time we played, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you have someone whispering the right moves in your ear right now.”

“Are you accusing me of cheating?”

“I’m merely raising a hypothesis,” he scratched his chin. “Wireless earbuds, perhaps? Although that would be quite the cheap trick.”

Melissa stretched in her seat and parted the flowing hair from her narrow ears. “Not as cheap as your innuendo,” she said. “Nothing in here, as you can see. Care to apologize now?”

“No. Not until I get a definitive answer. It took me years to get to the level where I am and you’re undoing it in a matter of weeks, so I ask once again: how are you doing this?”

“Why are you asking me something you already know?”

“Huh?”

“You’re wasting precious time with questions you don’t really want an answer to. Not one spoken out loud, of course.”

“What are you talking about?” he queried, visibly baffled.

“Think for a moment who the best person to defeat you is and then we can talk. Until then, my mouth’s shut.”

Alan fumed on the inside. Melissa had always loved her riddles even when they were kids, but she had become more exasperating after her twenties. When she wanted to deflect a conversation, it was almost impossible to stop her, and not merely because of her lovely body. Her mind was sharper than the rest of her friends, and he feared for the anatomy of anyone who dared to call her an air-headed bimbo. He looked at the board, reviewing all the moves that it had taken to reach the present configuration when the strangest thing came to mind. Not once did he actually remember seeing her move a piece.

“Wait a minute,” he thought, a fog unlike any other clouding his better judgment. Playing black, her countermoves matched the ones he would have made if he were in her shoes, and if she hadn’t touched the pieces at all, then…

“It’s my turn again,” she whispered, four simple words that triggered an automatic response. Alan’s right hand inched forward to reach for the Queen, the most powerful piece in the game, but not as irresistible as her. The suggestion worked once again, binding him deeper to her hypnotic control. He blinked as he let go of the piece, now resting in a perfect place to launch an all-out offensive against his remaining defenses.

“I…” he mumbled. “You…”

“… can’t resist,” she completed, a truth well-known despite hardly being remembered. He could play for the two of them while she played with his mind. “Happy now, Alan?”

His cock pushed hard against the tight pants, barely holding itself together. Alan bit his lower lip as the ecstasy of surrendering turned his perception of reality into whatever she wanted it to be.

“Anything else you want to ask?”

He didn’t offer a response, too busy forgetting he had even asked a thing. The game continued until its obvious conclusion, with a wannabe king wrapped between her legs. The winner takes it all.

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