The Games We Play

The letters on her rack -- S,O,L,T,R,P,I -- felt almost too plebian. She loved the glamour words, the ones no one expected, the polysyllabic wonders that impressed. Unfortunately, impressive usually only netted you a few points. Sometimes it was as simple as knowing where the "ho" had to go and you could collect 28 points in a single move.

Her opponent was studying the Scrabble rack with more intensity than she thought the game merited. The young woman was probably in her late 20s/maybe early 30s. She wore her long blonde-streaked brown hair in a ponytail which highlighted the incredible bone structure of her face. High cheekbones seemed like an understatement. Her bluegreen eyes were highlighted by just a touch of makeup. In fact, she was one of those "natural" beauties. Obviously she wore some make up but it was so perfectly applied that it would be easy for the uninformed to think she was simply blushing in the warmth of the junior college classroom that was serving as their "study hall."

Renee hadn't known exactly what she was getting into when she applied for the Learning Lab class on "How to Better Your Scrabble Game" but she loved words and she was so new to the city that she was trying just about anything to meet people. Already she'd suffered through a Singles-Who-Dine group she'd found online and other than discovering a couple of really good restaurants that she'd love to take a date to at some point in the near future, that experience had left her slighty "gassy" from the overabundance of hot air floating around the I'm-too-desperate-for-my-own-good-atmosphere every time the group gathered. She'd also powerwalked in the nearby park with eyes open to others alone and sans earphones. Alas, no luck.

So . . . she returned to the game of her childhood, her introduction to the joy of conjuring just the right connections at just the right time to garner a double, yea verily, possibly triple word score. She was convinced that though her grandmother introduced her to Scrabble at the tender age of 9, she was never the victim of "oh-let's-let-her-win-for-her-ego's-sake" type of grandparenting. No. She suffered humiliating defeat after humiliating defeat, placing "the", "cat" and "pole" on the board more times than she could count while her grandmother scarffed up the points with "queue" and "axis" placed on a double letter goldmine.

Still, she had grown up competing only with family. She wondered what she'd encounter with folks equally as enticed by the baby pink, blue and ... oh so seductive hot pink squares that practically demanded your attention every time you unboxed the board.

Renee was a word nerd and she knew it. So she decided, "Why not embrace it?" And she enrolled in the course. Frankly, it was $40 well spent if she discovered a few tricks and maybe, just maybe, met a new friend.

She had seen Jules the first night of class but really hadn't paid too much attention. Sure she was taller than many of the women in the room, but they were also slightly stooped by age! And, yes, she was of that athletic build that suggested she spent some time in the pool or the running track, but, truthfully, Renee wasn't looking for yet-another-"oh-yes-I'll-bask-in-your-shadow"-beauty for a friend. She was coming into her own confidence with her post-30 wisdom and liked what she saw when she looked in the mirror -- a healthy woman with curves and a smile that warmed you even if you weren't all that attracted to freckles and candor!

Renee had spent more their her fair share of time with the spotlight women. Her college roommate was the basketball standout who somehow understood that athletics didn't mean she couldn't be feminine. After her degree she shared a two bedroom in a great urban center with a real beauty queen. She held several titles and still knew her way around a hairspray encounter!

Now, in a new city with a new apartment and enough salary to enjoy both good food, good wine, and cable television, she thought it was time that she held her own. She knew she had something to offer someone with the sense to look in her direction.

What she didn't know was whether she cared which gender was looking.

When the instructor had set up the now familar "class" agenda of round robin matches, she thought she might get to meet Ted, the seemingly sensitive type who had smiled at each person during first night intros as though he expected exactly what you had to say about yourself. Ted wasn't a hottie but he wasn't bad. He had a few years on her and with that tan, he had to enjoy the outdoors. Unfortunately, Ted was only into nodding during group introductions. Listening one-on-one was not his forte. He actually couldn't stop talking . . . even when the tiles were few and the score was tight. Please! Had he no respect for the game? And, really, Renee couldn't find much enthusiasm for the third retelling of how he had acquired his entire game collection off a series of shrewd purchases from craigslist!

She did enjoy Jane's stories of living in the deep south for most of her life and how she still was considered a Yankee by many of her co-workers. She laughed when Roy, an elderly man who had some difficulty maneuvering the steps to the classroom, turned into a dashing charmer as soon as he was seated and his seven tiles were in place for competition.

But she hadn't yet encountered Jules. Until, of course, tonight. Jules often arrived late and so she was paired with the odd man/woman out who thought they would have to the second round of play. As a result, everyone was glad to have the chance to play and thus praised Jules, even though not a soul could tell much of the details of her life.

On this particular evening, Jules arrived on time and looked casually comfortable and relaxed in peasant skirt and t-shirt. She wasn't trying too hard and Renee liked that. When they drew each other for the first round of play, they smiled and moved quietly to the table that would serve as their "battleground." In truth, Renee wasn't that competitive and she suspected neither was Jules. But they shared a certain level of intensity.

"This," Renee decided, "could be good."

Renee drew the highest point tile to determine that she'd begin play and therefore win the double word score. But she didn't luck out so much with the draw of tiles. "Trips" seemed soooooo boring and she wondered if giving up that "s" so soon was a good idea. But a 4-letter start seemed like a shout out to desperation so she studied her rack a while longer. Finally, she settled on "spoilt" which left her with only an "r" for the next round of play. It wasn't pretty. Points were not mounting. But she was pleased.

Jules smiled. "And don't you hate it when the milk is?"

"Ahh ... but are you one of my tribe and somehow feel the need to share the experience by insisting everyone else take a sniff?" Renee laughed.

"Oh, no! You're one of THEM!" and then she got that triple letter whammy by strategically placing the h and doubling up on words and points.

"Ouch!" Renee said and realized that she was well-matched.

"You're spending a Thursday night with a ragtag group of what must to you appear to be senior citizens only to humiliate us?" she added as she studied her new tiles with a tad more concentration that her previous play had required.

"Oh, I have loved this game since I was in college," Jules offered grabbing new tiles to replace the treasure trove she had just placed down. "My roommate introduced me to it and I became addicted."

"Late night Scrabble instead of late night doughnuts?" Renee asked as she placed her satisfactory if not exactly "sexy" play on the board.

"Oh no, I had my fair share of doughnuts!" Jules confessed. "As a matter of fact, my graduation present to myself five years ago was a diet that included shedding 70 pounds and a determination that I'd feed my head and my love of the outdoors before I'd feed my body to that extent ever again!"

Renee found herself enjoying the honesty with which Jules played and spoke. She also realized that after one game, she wanted to spend a bit more time with the young woman. However, rules of the class demanded that the winner -- which was Jules ... really! -- move on to the winner's circle while Renee tried to redeem herself with the white-hairs that never seemed to quite get that the "pretty" words never really added up to much of a score.

"Hey," Jules said as she collected her things, "I really had a good time. Any chance you don't have plans for after?"

"Absolutely .. I don't," Renee countered. "How about I buy you a celebratory . . . well, we'll come up with something other than doughnuts, ok?"

Jules smiled. "Agreed! I'll catch you in the hallway."

They met in a slightly awkward silence until Jules offered, "I think I know a place that's open and nearby if you're game for outdoor dining and lots and lots of vines!"

"i can never say no to vine covered anything. I'll follow you."

They walked and covered the usual getting-to-know-you-topics: home states, degree emphases, current jobs.

Soon they were at the door of what appeared to be a nameless coffeehouse/bar. They entered to the sound of world music playing live in the room next door -- sounded strangely like a sitar and was. They ordered a glass of wine each and an appetizer to share -- pita and hummus. Renee paid with only a slight argument from Jules and they made their way to a table underneath white lights and almost entombed by vines and plant life. The idea that they were in a city with the traffic only feet away seemed almost a dream. Someone was thinking Midsummer Night's Dream when they designed this place they both agreed.

Over the first glass of wine and snack they learned a few more details. Jules wanted desperately to move from page layout at the neighborhood weekly she worked for to an actual exhibit of her mixed media. But she currently lacked the contacts and time to invest in the project that she envisioned would someday be her tracing of AIDS from a "gay man's disease" to one affecting women, children and the underprivileged and ill-informed.

Renee warmed to her with every syllable. As a longtime AIDS hospice volunteer in her previous hometown, she still hadn't found the group she knew was out there that would satisfy her need to give back, but she hadn't tired of looking. Hearing that someone else shared her sense of injustice made her strangely aware of her own humanity. And ... also strangely ... her longing.

Renee realized she was attracted to Jules. As their conversation wore on, she caught herself listening less and watching more. She watched as Jules emphasized her passion points with her long slender fingers. She smiled as the young woman's tendrils of hair kept falling in her face and she kept pushing them behind her ear as her enthusiasm for the subject grew and the hairs just kept releasing themselves.

She almost hesitated to look at her lips and when she did her fears were confirmed. She wanted nothing more than to kiss them, not to silence the younger woman's tales of world travels to study art or small town mentalities left behind, but rather to encourage the flow to continue.

She noted that there was a slight curve at the crease of Jules' mouth that left the suggestion of a permanent smirk and wondered if the artist had ever played on that stroke of luck. Had she ever used her natural beauty to her advantage?

And then Renee remembered that Jules' "natural beauty" was newfound and that left her wondering how exactly Jules viewed herself.

As they split and split again the last bit of pita, Renee asked, "So, Ms. I-Find-Art-In-Everything, what do you see when you look in the mirror? A masterpiece? A work in process?"

Jules stopped her first survey of the room since she sat down and looked directly at Renee. "Funny you should ask? Are you a former fatty as well? Cause truthfully, I go back and forth on that one. Some days I see the woman I'm proud to be -- healthy, free and ready for what comes next. Some days I want to cover myself in a sheet and be known as the ghost artist."

"I understand. Ghostwriting is one of my favorite ways to make a few extra bucks."

"Aha! You were what? Big boned in school?"

"How did you know? Yep, it was half sizes for me all the way through high school," Renee confessed a detail she hadn't though of in almost two decades.

"Wait just a minute then," and Jules jumped up and made her way out of the room. When she returned she had two beverages.

"A toast," she offered passing the diet 7-Up to her new friend. "To the women we were, the women we are, and the women we will be."

They drank and smiled.

The next class they met before and after and found yet another healthy appetizer to share and yet another out of the way and intimate cafe.

The third class since they engaged Renee was the first to arrive and the first to speak. "Tonight, my place -- unless that makes you uneasy . . ." She hated that she sounded somehow unsure of herself, for in reality, she was very definite about her plans.

"I'm only uneasy because I was going to ask you for next week! Absolutely, I'll look forward to it even as I triple word score my way to the top spot tonight. I'm feeling very, very lucky."

Renee grinned. "My thoughts exactly," she mused.

When they arrived at Renee's two bedroom apartment with her version of modern minimalist decor -- no dried flowers, wallpaper or excess bric-a-brac thank you very much -- Jules commented on the clean lines and the carefully selected artworks that graced each of the four walls of the den.

"I like your taste," she offered as she studied the pieces that Renee had collected in her travels as a writer and consultant.

"Tell me which ones intrigue you and which ones offend," she said as she moved to the kitchen to begin preparing the three course menu she'd been planning for the last week. "And remember, for every piece there's a story, so this is your warning to get your comments in early!"

Jules laughed and began her commentary on color and style. Renee countered with the tales of when and where and why she'd purchased what. She also laughed at how her kitchen had almost turned into her playground as she prepared the white wine, capers, and artichoke sauce for the mushroom and spinach ravioli, tossed the avocado and cucumber salad in the champagne vigagrette and stowed the glass bowls in the freezer for the sorbet she'd serve after the meal.

Jules noted with appreciation how she had planned a meal both satisfying and still healthy -- enough.

Renee noted that when Jules enjoyed herself her bluegreen eyes got even brighter.

The Sauvignon Blanc Renee had chosen from the Malborough region of New Zealand was also a hit. Her success in the kitchen, she hoped, would be a foreshadowing for her success with the next phase of her seduction.

"Sorbet?" she queried but stood without confirmation to move toward the freezer.

"Yes, absolutely," Jules responded as she both offered her plate and brushed Renee's hand with her own. She let it linger and held Renee's as she added, "No one has treated me this well in a long, long time. Thank you."

Renee was touched by both the gesture and the words. "Truly . . . my pleasure."

They enjoyed the lemon infused sweetness and allowed the quiet to take its place in the room as they shared a few anecdotes about summers growing up in small towns. They laughed easily. They listened intently.

When the last drops of now-syrup were drained from their bowls they smiled in satisfaction. Renee was the first to speak.

"I don't know where you are in this, but I decided this week that I would be a fool not to bring it up. I am attracted to you. I find you fascinating and delightful all in the same conversation. I also find you to be sexy and arousing. But I'm willing to put that on the back burner and never return to that subject again if you are in the slightest bit uncomfortable because it's not my intent to lose . . . "

Jules laughed the loudest she had since arriving.

"Excuse me?" Renee responded, hoping that Jules was reacting to the formality of her approach and not the content of her words.

Her hopes were rewarded.

"God, Renee, I wanted to make love to you the first night we played against one another but I focused on the tiles in order to not come off as some desperate stalker using Learning Lab classes to find her prey!"

"Oh, well . . . and then there's that . . . " Renee said straightfaced before laughing herself.

Jules leaned in and kissed Renee before the chuckle had even concluded. Renee realized the lips she'd first relished were all that and more.

"So I take it you have a bit of experience in these matters?" Renee asked.

"A bit. And you?" Jules pulled away only to find Renee's hand and begin stroking it as she raised it to her face and kissed the fingers that had worked so hard for her pleasure in the kitchen.

"Not much. But after my divorce, I've been trying a bit of this and that and I've discovered that sexual pleasure can come in many, many forms. Respect is my requirement. Everything is open to discussion."

"I respected you since you played "spoilt" as a beginning move," Jules smiled, and lifted Renee from her seat with a request to "tour" the apartment as she made her way to what she obviously assumed was the bedroom.

The rest of the evening was a exploration in bodies and experiences. Jules took the lead but Renee served as teacher/apprentice on more than one occasion. They discovered what pleased and teased. And they moved with the ease of women satisfied with play and serious about pleasure.

Kisses were soft and sweet except when they weren't. On one occasion, Renee was consumed with the need to take Jules in in one sweeping motion. She moved deftly from kissing Jules' forehead to sucking on her neckline to teasing her nipples with small pulls and pseudo bites to licking her way down her gorgeously round and yet not too full belly to the barest of hairlines at her crotch and then teasing her way in and out of her vagina while beginning to massage Jules' clit and with the fastest of fury mix the massages, licks, and sucking until Jules was writhing in pleasure.

Later, Jules reciprocated, with Renee's ass as her vocal point. She voiced her admiration for the perfectly formed cheeks and traced her finger down the defined path until she found her destination. She massaged Renee with first one finger . . . then two ... then three as she marveled at how Renee's tightness aroused and spurred her on. She could feel Renee's longing for her and she wanted to oblige.

Their fascination with one another grew throughout the night and into the morning. Orgasm after orgasm left them quietly sharing more of their stories, enjoying the release and then somehow restored to explore once again. Finally weariness overtook them and they slept.

Jules regretted when she woke in the early morning hours far too aware of the appointment she'd set up with the gallery owner regarding her possible exhibit. She didn't want to leave. She didn't want to disturb Renee's beautiful and peaceful sleep.

She wanted the play to continue.

Still, she knew that Renee would understand. So she quietly collected her clothes and made her way into the room where she suspected what she needed could be found.

When Renee awoke a couple of hours later and made her way into the now cleaned dining area, she was greeted with the most beautiful and sexy Scrabble rack she'd seen in quite a while.

C. A. L. L. M. E.

"Absolutely," she responded. "Absolutely."