Gamers
Copyright© 2025 by AspernEssling
Chapter 11: Last Turn
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 11: Last Turn - Coming of Age. Dean and his friends are board game players. None of them ever expected that gaming could lead to meeting girls, and to romance. Dean never expected his best friend's sister to be interested in him.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction First Oral Sex Safe Sex
I didn’t draw the cards.
The moment Vee said those words, I felt as though I had been punched in the gut. It was hard to breathe, for a minute. Her hand was still in mine, but she pulled it away, to take up her napkin and dab at her eyes. She couldn’t stop crying.
I finally recovered my senses, and realized that she needed me. Whatever I was feeling (or not feeling, since I was so stunned), Vee was hurting. I sat next to her, and tried to comfort her, putting my arm around her shoulder, and stroking her arm.
- “It’s alright.” I told her. “It’ll be alright.”
She shook her head. She stopped crying long enough to say “Please: take me home.”
I apologized to the waiter, and paid for our wine. The drive home was agonizing. She was still sobbing, and refused to even look at me. I mumbled platitudes, trying to make her feel better.
- “Where do I take you?” I asked. “Should we go for coffee, and talk about this?”
She shook her head. “Trisha’s.” was all she said.
I walked to the door with her, but she wouldn’t let me in.
- “Vee.” I said. “We have to talk about this.”
- “I can’t.” she said, starting to sob again. Her makeup was smeared, with tear tracks down both cheeks, and her mascara had run, making her look exactly like I felt - horrible.
- “I don’t think I should leave you alone.” I said.
- “Please. Just go.”
- “Vee -”
- “I’ll call Lucy. And Trisha. Please...” She still wouldn’t look at me.
I let her close the door on me.
I have no memory of driving home. All I remember was calling Lucy, and then texting her when her phone was busy. Lucy replied in the affirmative: she was talking to Vee. I managed to park my parents’ car in the drive, and then went for a walk through my neighbourhood. It was a steamy, humid night.
I didn’t draw the cards.
The moment she said it, I knew who had. And felt like an idiot for not knowing it sooner. Vee loved abstract, and never drew or painted people or animals, just like the Moorish art she admired so much.
Her embarrassment, her reluctance to have me use the cards with the game - I had thought it was because the seventh card, which I took to be her, was too sexy. That wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that they weren’t her work at all that bothered her.
How many times had I complimented her on her cards? How many others had commented on them, telling me, or telling her how wonderful they were. ‘The girl who drew those must really love you’, someone had said. It must have been like twisting a knife in Vee’s heart every time she had to hear that.
And now I was questioning her, and questioning myself. What did I feel for Vee? At the beginning, she had been in love with me for a long time, whereas I was caught by surprise. It was flattering, of course, to have a beautiful girl say she loved me. A boost for my ego. And I responded by falling in love with the person who loved me.
Would we ever have reached an equilibrium? Would we have ended up feeling the same about one another?
Vee was hurting, and I wanted to reach out, to offer her some support. But maybe I was a large part of the problem. Every time she saw me, would Vee be thinking about this?
And would I do the same? Would I be able to look at Vee and not think about the cards - and the person who really had drawn them?
I was pretty much useless the next day. I didn’t do a single constructive thing. Les called, but I couldn’t think of what to say, so I postponed that conversation. Later that evening, I found the energy to read my mail. Les and Lucy had both sent me messages, offering a shoulder to cry on if I felt so inclined.
And there was a message from Jazz. It consisted of a single line.
I am so sorry.
The next day, Monday, I kicked myself out of my funk. This wasn’t helping anybody. I called Vee, and to my surprise, she agreed to see me, on Tuesday night.
- “Come over to Trisha’s.” she said. “About 8:00, okay?”
I managed to keep myself busy for a day: I cut the grass, cut our elderly neighbour’s grass, and cleaned out the garage. Mom must have figured that I had lost my mind.
At 8:00 sharp, I was knocking on the door of Trisha and Angie’s apartment. I had not the slightest clue what I was going to say. Vee opened the door. She had been crying again, but looked a little more composed. She offered me a beer, which I accepted, if only to make this seem a touch more normal.
She put me at the table, and then sat down opposite me.
- “This isn’t going to be easy for me.” she said. “You’ll have to bear with me. But I’ll tell you the truth, as best I can.” At least she was looking at me today.
“I told you that I fell in love with you right away. And that’s true. But I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell anybody, because you were with Kasia. I...”
- “You don’t have to do this, Vee.” I said, even though I didn’t know what she was going to say.
She held up a hand. “Yeah, I do. Let me tell it. I knew what Kasia was doing; we all did. But I didn’t tell you, because she’s my friend and you were ... you were just some guy I was crushing on. And you were her boyfriend, I guess, even if ... you know.”
- “I don’t think I was ever her boyfriend.”
- “I know. But I wasn’t going to try to steal one of Kasia’s boyfriends. Then ... well, you know. Everybody found out. It was such a mess. I tried to forget about you; maybe I did, for a little while. I don’t know.”
Vee bit her lip. She was being very courageous, trying to remember everything she thought I should know.
“Then you started gaming with us again. Without Kasia. I had ... things going on. But the real reason I didn’t say anything was just ... I’m kind of a chicken, in some ways.” She shook her head. “But that’s not the point. It took me a few weeks to get up the courage to say something. Anything. I don’t know, to ask you out.”
“I was having lunch with Jazz and Lucy. It was a couple of days after you all went to that club. That British Invasion Dance.”
I nodded. It was the first time Jazz and I got together.
- “So we’re laughing about something, and then I decide to tell them both that I’m going to ask you out. I guess I figured that might commit me, or something. Like once I said it, I would have to actually follow through and do it.”
“And both of their faces dropped. I mean, they looked horrified. Well, you know Jazz; she took a deep breath, and she told me truth. She told me that she had slept with you, and that she was crushing on you herself. She apologized: I think she was more upset than I was.”
“It was nobody’s fault, really. But Jazz has always been protective of me, and she was really torn. I could tell. She kept saying ‘Three days’. If she had waited three days before sleeping with you, she would have known how I felt, and then she could have stepped aside.”
- “Is that why she told me that she wasn’t ‘girlfriend material’?” I asked
- “No. If I remember correctly, she told me that day that she had already warned you. See, her father had been talking about moving her to Australia, to be near her sister. One week it was on, another week it was off. He’d been doing that to her since reading week. She said it was like being a passenger on a yoyo.”
Vee sniffed. I stood up, went into Trisha and Angie’s bathroom, and came back with a box of tissues. I placed them on the table next to her. Vee smiled for the first time.
- “I’m okay.” she said. “But thank you.”
- “Go on.” I encouraged. “Lunch with Jazz and Lucy.”
- “Oh. That was about it, that day. But maybe two weeks later, Jazz called me up and we got together. She said that Australia was on again. She admitted that she was still sleeping with you, and...”
- “And?”
- “And that she was more in love with you than she was when you first started.” Vee looked like she might cry. I nodded at the box of tissues, but she shook her head.
“No, I’m fine. Anyway, Jazz said that ... with Australia on again, she would try to keep your relationship with her to ‘a short fling’. Her words.”
I remembered the exams that year. Jazz had insisted that we both study for exams. She had suggested that we not see each other until they were over. Had she been trying to gradually wean me off her? Or herself off me?
- “Go on.” I said.
- “It was about that time that Jazz came up with an idea. I think it was after exams. She said that she could limit your relationship to a ‘summer romance’ - again, those were her words. And she told me that I could step in when she left. If she left.”
- “She wasn’t sure?” I asked.
- “I told you: on one week, off the next. But she said that I had to be ‘in position’ to step in if she had to go. She wanted to plant the idea of me in your head.”
- “She did, Vee. She talked about you a lot. How wonderful you were, how pretty you were. I didn’t realize ... I didn’t understand what she was doing.”
- “Jazz said that she would try to encourage you to think of other girls, and me in particular. But she didn’t want to be too obvious. ‘He’s too intelligent to con’, she said.”
- “How wrong she was.” I said.
- “I don’t know.” said Vee. “But then Jazz came up with another idea.”
- “The cards.”
- “When she drew them, she was pretty sure that she’d be leaving during the summer. So she talked me into giving them to you, and letting you think they were from me. I ... I had objections. But if I’m going to be entirely honest, I didn’t say no.”
Vee tried to remember the exact words of their conversation. They went something like this:
Jazz: You’re an artist. He knows that you’re an artist.
Vee: You’re an artist too. He’ll recognize your style.
Jazz: I’ve never shown him any of my work. And I’m using a style I’ve never tried before.
Vee: But they’re yours. Why don’t you give them to him yourself?
Jazz: He’s a romantic. Very sentimental. That would just make him fall in love with me.
Vee: He’s in love with you already! And you’re obviously in love with him. Why would that be a bad thing?
Jazz: That’s not the point, Vee. If I’m not going to be here in September, then the less he’s in love with me, the better. It won’t hurt him as much when I go. And the more highly he thinks of you, the sooner you two can get together.
Vee: It just sounds so crazy.
Jazz: I want you both to be happy, Vee. You have strong feelings for him. And if I wasn’t in the picture, Dean would probably have strong feelings for you. So now that I know I won’t be here ... it just makes sense to help you two get together.
I was silent for a while, digesting that. Vee continued.
- “It got weird when she kept drawing cards, and then giving them to me. She had just finished the second set, I think, when her Dad changed his mind, and the move was off. I said it was time to tell you that the cards were hers, but she asked me to wait. Sure enough, her father changed his mind again. Somehow, I think she knew that he would.”
“When she finally did leave, I could see that you were devastated. Part of me wanted to comfort you, to offer you a shoulder to cry on. But I was afraid. I thought it was too soon.” She sniffed again. “So I waited too long. And then you hooked up with Angie. I don’t blame you, or anything...”
- “That was just sex, Vee. Neither of us was in love with the other. We both knew that from the very beginning. It was her idea, really, to just remain friends. And then she told me that she wanted to go out with Rick.”
- “Rick the Dick?” she asked.
- “Yeah.” I was glad to see that the nickname was sticking. It fit.
- “I didn’t know the details.” she said. “All I could see was that you and Angie were getting close. It looked to me like I had missed my chance. Again. So when Max asked me out, I accepted. He’s your friend, so I figured he must be a nice guy. But there was no spark there. I shouldn’t have gone out with him at all. That was a mistake.”
- “But you found the courage to tell me how you felt.” I said.
She waved a hand in dismissal. “That may be the only thing I did right. Everything else I did was wrong. And letting you believe that the cards were mine was just ... stupid. I was stupid. Jazz meant well, but she was stupid, too.”
I had no idea what to say. We sat there in silence for a little while.
- “So...” I ventured. “Where do we go from here?”
Vee looked up, with a tremendously sad expression on her face.
- “Nowhere, Dean.” she said. “We can’t go on from this. Now you know that Jazz loved you all along, and still does. She loved you so madly that she tried to make sure that you would have a girlfriend when she left.”
- “She lied to me.” I said.
- “She lied to make you happy. I lied to keep you for myself. Her lie was unselfish. Mine wasn’t. Every time you look at that game, at those cards, you’re going to be reminded of just how much she loved you ... and that I deceived you.”
- “I won’t -”
- “You won’t be able to help it. How could you possibly think anything else?”
- “Vee, I have strong feelings for you.” I said. And I meant it.
She smiled, finally, but very sadly. “I know, Dean. You’ve loved me, these past few months. It’s been wonderful. And maybe you’ll always wonder what might have been, had things been different. I know I will. But if you and I tried to stay together, it wouldn’t work. You would always be wondering about Jazz, and what might have been with her. I don’t see how you could avoid that.”
“Let me do something selfless, for a change. Follow your heart, Dean. Try a long-distance relationship, or whatever you can. I won’t stand in the way, and I won’t make you feel guilty. I love Jazz, too.”
I had to bow my head. Vee spoke the truth, and the words found an echo inside me. She was right. If I stayed with her, I would always wonder...
We promised that we would remain friends, and that she would continue to game with us. Only time would tell if we could live up to that. She let me hug her, and kiss her cheek. And then Vee sent me on my way.
Two days later, I took out my Amazons game. It made me realize that Vee had been right. I was thinking about Jazz. The board made me think of Jazz. And the cards ... Vee had been wrong about one thing: they didn’t make me think of betrayal, or of deception. They made me think of Jazz.
I felt much the same about Vee as I had weeks ago. I had strong feelings for her, but not as strong as hers for me. She was smart, and kind, and beautiful. I was powerfully attracted to her physically. But the disparity between the intensity of our feelings made me uncomfortable. Maybe, in time, that would have changed. Maybe.
So I spoke to my Professor at work, and watched the movie ‘Good Will Hunting’, for about the 6th time. I had a long conversation with my parents. Of course, I also stared at Jazz’s self-portrait, hanging on my wall, above my computer. It had been moved only once: the night Vee came over, and we made love in my bed. The next night, I had put the portrait back.
It’s amazing how little details, little things like that, can tell us so much. I asked Lucy and Les to meet me at a pub downtown.
- “You talked to Vee.” said Lucy. It wasn’t a question.
- “She told you?”
- “She said she told you everything.”
- “She did.” I said. “She was brutally honest. And she let me go.”
- “You okay?” asked Les.
- “I’m good.” I replied.
- “What are you going to do?” asked Lucy.
- “I’m going to Australia.” I said.
It’s a fucking long flight to Australia.
It takes quite a while to fly 10,000 miles. By the time you get through customs, it’s unlikely that you will be feeling (or looking) your best. But when I finally collected my luggage, and stepped into the arrivals area, I immediately felt like a million bucks.
Because Jazz was there to meet me.
I had sent her my flight number, and my arrival time, but not much more. I also didn’t read her email reply, because I didn’t want her to talk me out of it. I forwarded the message to Lucy, and asked her if there was anything I needed to know.
- “She’ll be there.” was Lucy’s simple reply.
Jazz was wearing tight jeans and a lime green t-shirt. Her hair was slightly dishevelled, as always. She was so beautiful that my chest hurt.
She waited for me. I closed the distance between us, from 10,000 miles to a single yard. And then she leapt the final yard, wrapping her arms around me. She nearly knocked me on my ass. Her lips sought mine, and she poured almost a year’s worth of love and longing into a kiss.
Finally, Jazz released me, and allowed me to gulp in a breath of air.
- “You’re not staying at a hotel.” she said. Jazz made a grab for my luggage, but I wasn’t having any of that. “Don’t be an idiot; you’re staying with us.” she insisted.
- “Alright. Just lead the way.” I said.
She had borrowed her sister’s car. I knew that August was winter in Australia, but I still wasn’t prepared for 12 degrees Celsius. As she drove, Jazz pointed out local landmarks and simultaneously tried to fill me in about her living arrangements.
I remembered Botany Bay, and the fact that she was living with her sister and her sister’s husband. Her father had helped them purchase a large two-storey house, with plenty of room for all four of them. Her Dad was presently away on business, but would return the day after tomorrow, which suited me fine.
It took about half an hour to reach their place. When we arrived, her sister opened the door. Reem was four years older, and just as lovely. She was a bit heavier, but had the same brown eyes and aquiline nose. Reem had a warm smile, and like her sister, she wasn’t shy at all.
- “Dean.” she said, wrapping me in a full-body hug. “We’re so glad you’re here.”
I met her husband, Liam, who was built like a linebacker. “Welcome to Sydney.” he said. We exchanged a few pleasantries, but Reem didn’t give him a chance to say much more. “C’mon, Liam. We’ll let Dean settle in. I’m sure he could use a rest and chance to freshen up. We have some errands to run, but we’ll see you for dinner.”
Jazz took me upstairs. She showed me to a well-appointed guest room.
- “Do you want a drink, first? Or a shower?”
- “A shower, please.”
Half an hour later, dressed in clean clothes, I joined Jazz in the sitting room. She cracked open a beer for each of us, and then sat down beside me on the couch. She was unusually hesitant.
- “I don’t know where to start.” she admitted. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
- “Me neither.” I said. “You look like a dozen of my best dreams all rolled into one.”
Jazz rarely blushed, but she did flush very prettily. Then she grew suddenly serious.
- “Dean, before you say anything, I want to tell you once more: I am so very sorry about you and Vee. I never meant to hurt her. Or you, for that matter. The opposite, in fact. I wanted you two to be happy together.”
- “You don’t have to apologize.” I said. “Vee told me everything, from her perspective.” I gave Jazz a summary of what Vee had said.
- “That’s true.” she said. “It was stupid. I meant well, but I didn’t think it through. I made a Vee a partner in my deception, and it ended up hurting her.”
- “Don’t blame yourself too much.” I said. “Somehow, I don’t think that Vee and I were that good a match, anyway.” I explained about the difference in the levels of intensity between us. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about everything. I’m pretty sure, now, that the little awkwardness between us would have always been there. I would always be wondering if I only loved her because she loved me.”
“And it would never have been right for Vee. She would always be worried that I was still in love with you. And she would have been right.”
“It’s odd, though. I thought, at the beginning, that you and I had started that way. I was madly in love with you, and you kept trying to discourage me with your ‘ I’m not girlfriend material’ routine.”
- “I was trying to warn you off.” said Jazz.
- “I know. But I also came to understand that it didn’t matter. You couldn’t change how I felt about you. And then I realized that you felt the same, despite your warnings. I don’t know how I never figured out that the cards were yours. I can be pretty dense, sometimes.”
She smiled, then, and reached up to touch my hair.
I matched her gesture, and raised my hand to touch her hair. I caressed her cheek, and then I leaned forward to kiss her. She met me halfway, and wrapped her arms around me.
Somehow, we got off the couch and up the stairs without breaking contact. Jazz steered me toward the guest room. We were kissing more passionately, more aggressively, our hands searching and exploring. Her pants were undone, and my belt was gone.
I tried to strip off as much of her clothing as I could, before my baser urges took over completely. She seemed equally frantic, tugging at my clothes. She also reached behind her, into a bedside drawer, and produced a condom.
- “You have to wear one of these.” she said. “I went off the pill after I got here. But I only got a dozen. I may have to go shopping for more.”
We managed to get most of our clothing off, and the condom rolled on, before we sank down onto the bed together, and I finally entered her. The moment of penetration was beyond exquisite. We both groaned. I had no finesse, no romance, and I was not particularly gentle - but that was exactly what Jazz wanted. I pushed inside her, trying to get as deep as I could, while she clutched at my ass, trying to pull me further in.
Our bodies slammed together, as I tried to nail her to the bed. On every stroke, her hips came up to meet me. It was too much for me. I groaned again, and exploded inside the condom. She moaned, feeling me spurt inside her, and clutched me even tighter.
I couldn’t leave her like that. I took her nipple into my mouth, while I slipped a finger inside her, and teased her clit with my thumb. Jazz was so excited, it only took a few moments to bring her to a climax.
We held each other, pressing our now sweaty bodies together.
- “You’re going to need another shower.” she whispered.
- “Are you propositioning me?” I asked.
- “What if I am?”
- “What time is it?” I asked her.
- “About 2:30. We’re not going out for dinner until about six. Do you want to take a nap?”
- “No.” I said. “I want to talk. I have a whole list of things I need to tell you. Seven of them, as a matter of fact.”
- “You made a list? Okay: what’s number one?”
I propped myself up on one elbow, and looked into her beautiful brown eyes.
- “I had to see you. I’ve missed you, and thought about you, but the urge to see you again was overpowering. And from where I’m lying now, it was worth the airfare.”
Jazz pulled my head down, and kissed me. “Sweet talker. Keep that up, and you’ll be getting into my pants in no time.”
I rolled out of bed, and went over to my luggage. I came back with a small package and an envelope. I put the package on the nightstand, next to her.
- “Two.” I said. “Lucy and Les sent you a present. They miss you, too. And Lucy said that I was to ask you about a painting.”
Jazz blushed, this time. “I’ll ... I’ll show you later.” she said.
- “Three.” I continued, handing her the envelope.
- “What is it?”
- “Open it.”
She did. It was a cheque for $10,000, from Circle the Wagons Games.
- “I can’t -” she started.
- “You can, and you will, and there’s no discussion. Ed West loves your work. He’s interested in Maharajah, too, and he really likes the board. I have to warn you, though: he’s going to try to persuade you to draw character cards for Maharajah as well.”
- “We can discuss this later.” she said.
- “The cards, yes. The cheque, no. That’s simply what your cards and your board are worth, according to the people who bought Amazons. There’s an option for more, in fact, if the game sells particularly well. Don’t fight me on this, Jazz. You’ll lose.”
- “Thank you.” she whispered. She insisted on a kiss and a big hug, which led to another kiss, and threatened to turn into considerably more. I pulled back, and held her at arm’s length.
- “Four.” I said. “I have to apologize. I was a fool. I should have known that the cards were yours. And I should never have let you go the way I did. It was very stupid of me, and I’m sorry.”
- “Apology accepted.” she said. “I wasn’t any smarter.”
- “Five. I came to Australia with ulterior motives. I didn’t just come to see you, and talk to you, or to deliver a parcel and an envelope. I planned all along to kiss you, and to take you bed. I’m here to make love to you as often and as well as I can.”
She pulled me down beside her. We kissed and caressed each other for a while. I decided that it was her turn to come first this time, and worked my way down her body until I could kiss her lower lips and run my tongue between them.
Jazz let me work her over thoroughly, unhurriedly. She ran her fingers through my hair, and gently rubbed my earlobes, but otherwise let me have my way with her. She came softly, with a slight trembling in her legs.
She pulled me back up next to her, then rolled me over on my back. She kissed her way across my chest, and down my stomach, until she scooped up my lengthening organ in her mouth. She made sure that I was fully erect, and thoroughly wet, and then put a condom on me.
Jazz straddled my hips, and took hold of my cock, and then sank down upon it. She placed both of her hands on my chest, and began to ride, but so softly, so slowly, with an easy motion. She was in no hurry, either. We both stared into each other’s eyes, and a huge smile lit up her face.
Unlike our first frantic coupling, this was a languid feast for the senses. But most of all, it was about intimacy and closeness. Emotionally, it was the most intensely satisfying experience I had ever had.
She rode me quietly for many long minutes, until I came again.
We showered together, and cleaned up, well before Reem and Liam returned to take us out to dinner. They had chosen a Spanish tapas restaurant, of all things, swearing that the food was excellent.
- “Watch yerself.” said Liam. “These two like to slide a fella the spiciest stuff, and then laugh when it blows his head off. I was sweatin’ from my head, an’ they thought it was bloody hilarious.”
- “Stop exaggerating.” said Reem. “It’s our treat, Dean. We heard that congratulations are in order. It must be a thrill to have sold your game.”
- “I taught them how to play.” said Jazz. “But they haven’t seen this.” she added, passing the cheque I had given her across to her sister.
Reem’s eyes went wide. “Whoa!” She showed it to Liam.
- “Bloody hell!” he said. “Why are we the ones payin’?”
They were excellent company, bright and funny, but also genuinely interested in what I was doing back home. Reem wanted to hear how we had first met, from my perspective. Jazz had obviously already told her own version. Reem also trotted out a few of the obligatory embarrassing stories from her little sister’s childhood. Jazz didn’t seem too traumatized, and got some revenge by telling me the story of how Reem and Liam had met.
- “He spilled a beer on her at a football match!”
- “It was an accident.” protested Liam. “‘Sides, I was carrying three at the time. I did save two of them.”
Reem had been visiting a friend, but Liam was appealing enough that she had returned to Australia for a second visit six months later. Her third trip to Australia had started three years ago - and was still ongoing.
The girls went off to the ladies’ room together. I watched Liam follow them with his eyes. He turned back and grinned at me.
- “I think she likes you. Mind you, after everything Jazz told us about you, it would be a wonder if she didn’t.
- “Reem? She seems amazing.” I said.
Liam nodded. “She is. I would drink her bathwater. And her sister is a pearl beyond price. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
- “I have a pretty good idea.” I said. “Why do you think I’m here?”
We didn’t stay out too late. Reem suggested an early night, because I would probably be jet-lagged. But the way she was smiling at her little sister told me that she didn’t expect us to be sleeping anytime soon. Reem and Liam wanted to show me around Sydney a little bit, but promised to wait until tomorrow afternoon, to let me sleep in.
Back at the house, we said goodnight, and Jazz led me upstairs.
- “Leave your bag in the guest room.” she said. “You’ll be sleeping with me tonight.”